"Exquisite Smallness" by Jesse Suess

This evening the sky

craned itself into an immense tower of

clouds. Its peak arched over my head

to the horizon

and still

there was just enough room

for the sun’s final sermon.

Standing there alone,

a captive audience of exquisite

smallness, I felt the thread of shame slip

its knot. Each stitch around my lungs

loosened and fell into an absence

that grew like a flame from my

chest until even the sky caught fire

and burned to black cinder

and diamonds.

Jesse grew up in the forests of the Pacific Northwest, but he is currently living in and exploring the woods of upstate New York. His work has been published or is forth coming in Hyacinth Review, the Montana Mouthful and the Field Guide Poetry Magazine. You can find him on twitter @suessjesse