photograph by Karen Hansen
poem by Dave Morrison

Today

Normally I
think of the sun as a
single fiery entity but
today it has broken into two
million golden pieces
many of which are
floating on the
surface of the
bay.
Conversely, I
often think of the
wind as a series of
breaths, yet
today it feels like a
single warm
hand
gently pushing me
down
Main Street.

Sweet (JukeBooks 2006)