Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Light but no heat

A mischievous sun,
up too early
and riding low,
he bursts in,
jumping through twin
abandoned panes

to scamper on
a delighted
ceiling, its worth
in crumbled brick.
He skips past kicked
debris, the tagged

walls, he'll now mimic,
dropping down,
bald knees balanced
on fallen pipes
to playful paint
his hued likeness:

a glitter gold face,
speech bubble
attached and crooning
song of wintry
light, but no heat.

Francis Scudellari

This poem is written in response to Read Write Prompt #107: lighting the way at Read Write Poem. This was a photo prompt using the image Shotgun Blast by Shane Gorski.

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