truth

hair transparent

it is reflection, refraction, distortion

trick of light

that reaches us

makes him white

he is the inevitable, invisible

male pacing, stalking

myth

resentment

again resenting as the same people

take without acknowledgement

and the leeches demand more

when i feel i need help

that it is the same people i have

worked for for years should tell

me that nothing has changed except

within me

admit i am hurt, tired, overwhelmed

and protect myself to allow me to heal

as resentment is almost as defeating

as whining

Aurora

haunting, magical play of lights

i’ve seen twice now—three times

actually, as the second encounter spread

over two nights in August

a treasure experienced in Alaska

watching in shoulder-hugging awe

even knowing that solar flares

had sent particles to collide

with Earth’s magnetic field

science explains the colors and swaying

curtains of light, but not the depth

of feelings of the primitive within me

near worship of the vastness

of the universe of which i am less

than a speck flickering in time