Green Flash

 

A single cupped palm shades her eyes.

Prints in a mind extend onto sand

            and downward into casual lolls.

The love of a green flash repeats

            and she eagerly awaits the dipping Sun.

 

It goes.

            Radiance.

Any avid comicer says kryptonite,

but it is emerald glass across a stained cloth.

No, it is beautified relaxation and awe

            yet never comes close to glorified or proud.

 

A moment of serenity and

the glimmer snaps back.

Black,

Silent,

            but remainingly astounding.

We did not create this or anything as

Beautiful.

 

24 April 2004