Tina Shields Kerr

God the master
A yellow blaze
We fall towards
His burning rays…
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The book bug walks
On his spindly legs
Caution as support
In every step
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Paralyzed in moments
A dream or reality
Created by whom?
A universal predicament
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Clouds part
Tis their will
Bed for angels
Never still…
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She held his face in her hand
A chalice waiting to be drank
Where did he come from?
Where has he been?
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That funny little moon
With his downcast eyes
Peering through the light
Crystallized
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Safe
In our
Atomic cocoon
Of
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