by Michael Keshigian

It delivers a promise
from the sun
upon a slender shoot
whose spiky tip
slices through black windows
to seize
the pictures
upon our walls
and cast their likeness
on the unsuspecting mirror
that reflects a grin
atop the hardwood floors
gleaming as if wet.
Yet, though the glow assures,
night penetrates
the firmament above
like an ink stain,
and the owls,
ever vigilant,
stare wide eyed
deep into the darkness
of our shadowed insecurities.

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