$\"Web$

Web by Sam Phillips<\/p><\/div>\n

<\/div>\n

Season of Stars & Vidrick’s Poem<\/strong><\/p>\n

At the poles
\nthere are only two: summer,
\nand night.<\/p>\n

In the tropics,
\nhot,
\nand wet.<\/p>\n

Artifacts of mid-
\nlatitudeness,
\nthe traditional four.<\/p>\n

Let me enter
\nthe season of your smile, soar
\nin the hear and now of your
\nblack-body
\nradiation.<\/p>\n

MYSELF TO A PUDDLE OF RAIN
\nWAITING FOR THE RADIANT ONE
\nWHOSE SONG MELTS ONE INTO
\nTHE LANDSCAPES OF EVERYTHING
\nOF TRUE EXISTENCE.<\/p>\n

FINALLY AN ANSWER BURNT TOAST
\nAND A REASON AS BIRDS RETURN
\nAND THE SUN SHINES THROUGH
\nTHE WINDOW<\/p>\n

THE SCENT OF BURNING GASOLINE
\nAND THE CHIRP OF BIRDS RETURNING
\nTO THE SENSES AS THE WORLD TURNS
\nAND THE EYE IS BLINDED TO THE
\nDIMENSIONS OF ANGELS WHO
\nKEEP THE SWINGS FROM SLIDING
\nMADLY ACROSS THE BELOVED’S
\nPLAYGROUND<\/p>\n

NOTHING BUT EMPTY AIR FOR CENTURIES
\nAS THE HOWLING OF ONE MAD SPARROW
\nRETURNS AND THE SOUND OF TURNING
\nCLOCKS AND A SWARM OF BEES ANNOUNCE
\nTHE SPECTACLE OF A SHORT AND CROOKED
\nSEASON OF A THOUSAND CANDLES BURNING<\/p>\n

Tongue-stumble aside,
\nlet us know – down to
\nthe souls of our skins –
\nthe light
\nof distant
\nsuns.<\/p>\n

~ Terry Provost and Russell Vidrick<\/p>\n

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