New work by Fern Flat poet Sugar Magnolia Wilson.
Spent
The night sky is full of
stars but
we are more clever than
most – we know
they are just
burned bones.
Nothing beautiful –
not space sailors blown
from their ships – the light from
treasure quickly grasped
in their fists
only reaching us now.
It’s a useless kind of light –
unspendable.
The palm of your hand lies
on my knee
like a gold coin
donation
trying to free up my joints
but I don’t feel like
moving
or shining.
And your voice has had
its heartwood cut out
a woodpecker taps a hollow
sound against
the bark casing where
other things dwell
now – rats and
stoats, wide-mouthed
egg-swallowers too.
In the dark your face
is different – you have more
teeth than normal and
your mouth
looks expensive.
Sugar Magnolia Wilson, 2019
Spinoff poetry editor Ashleigh Young welcomes submissions for The Friday Poem at thefridaypoem@gmail.com
