Aventurine
Written by Michele Parker Randall
Posted in Poetry
Two hours ago I took a photo of a sky
so blue it came across faked,
one of those 1000 piece puzzles
where colors have been polarized
to a bluer multiverse; I no longer trust
any image to be true. Even mirrors
expose a spectre, some quick flash
of a face-what-was, when
any darkness under the eyes
developed from my choices,
legend-maker nights.
Irises clear, less sad, less
weary. A ghost at first glance
fades into the face that is—
older, unretouched
by special effect. Without
a hint of yesterday’s
storm that cracked windows
and trashed yards, bright
with clouds layered atop
a gemstone sky, I took a picture.
