an atlas of cloudbursts       a map of eclipses

solar plexus snaps so easy underneath my hand

song for the boy with dirty feet       song

for his bare torso running wet in the riverbed

a fanged devil       a widow’s peak       jasmine

and sage in a bowl for the altar       a boy weeps

a river       a boy weeps a truth true       landmarks

drawn on our skin       celestial atlases to find

each other by       a bridge of light       a tunnel

of water       this is how we build heaven

with all the materials of a dying composer’s body

pin his music sheets to the wall      call them hymns

hang up his waistcoat       put away his pipe

pull the gun from his mouth and say he’s happy

where he is now       in a better place       we could live

in such a beautiful world if we weren’t intent

on killing this one       we could live in such beautiful

bodies if we weren’t so intent on hurting these

a field journal of solar systems       a cartographer

sees the galaxy and names it unfinished

song for the boy humming symphonies       song

for the boy who loved stars


Sage is a creative writing undergrad and Blue House fellow at Elms College. Their work appears/will appear in Glass: A Journal of PoetryEllis ReviewSooth Swarm, The Penn Review, Pittsburgh Poetry ReviewThe Binnacle, and elsewhere. They can be found on Twitter @sagescrittore.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s