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In the Carribean
at the end of day
sun drops suddenly
like a fire ball
behind forested hills


See her moonlight

bloom from thick forest


leaving the ground

plucking words from the stars


half heather mosses

deep purple wherries



Here now skyline assembles fire.
The sun collects up to leave.
Its bright following paled,
suddenly all goes. Dusk rushes
in, like door closed on windowless room.


Tadpoles huddled in a pond
afraid of the Carribean night,
its intense darkness.

Candleflies moving about,
lighting up and going out,
lighting up and going out.

Rising Stars: New Young Voices in Poetry

We are staring at the moon

and I think for a second we become

wolves again.

Screaming at the stars,

growling at the idea

that this night might end