Let there be light – and then,
cities blossom beneath sirened skies
like they’re gasping for air.
Silent black crafts flock to the tarmac.
Ice plenishes the world’s crowns.
My grandfather laughs as a horse vomits
an apple into my shaking hand.
I answer his nod with a question
about the past. Earth births
a part of itself into space,
and snakes the size of sequoias
play god on the rock.