Soft Bombs


 

‘I am fearfully and wonderfully made’ – Psalm 139:14.

 

All Seven Seas breathe
In these Soft Bombs, implode,
Swell melons into bellows,
(Reddened greens, yellows, blues).

Which long talons, etched metal,
On hands that span islands,
Ravish and slash and rip
To new sutures, when grey,

Laser-eyed surgeons reassemble,
By plunder, wonderful skies.
Which flit, striptease, lightning
Sears, with hot, dry, white, neon

When lenses, tic, stutter, on the blind,
Staring, shutters of those graph-maddened cameras
Mimicking numb, limbless, dancers
Who twitch, deaf, to mute music.

Yet, flute moons remembered, those Soft Bombs,
Hot, throbbing, glow, blow beyond gold,
In the kiss of creation
In our sweet, fleeting, Suns!

© Richard Westall