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