Glass: A Journal of Poetry Volume One Issue Three
Saffron
I flutter when I dance
and shiver when I drive.
My fingers create lotus, deer and Shiva.
How far is Houston from Victoria city?
Prayers of my palm, poetry in my eyes.
The sky is so big. The roads are so wide.
I don't melt here.
My saffron. Your orange.
When I push carts and displace
cans from the shelves,
I ache, I stomp.
My fingers create the rain
and reach for the milk.
When I am not watched,
I make art in Wal-Mart.