by Sandi Sweeney
Year of the Sea Monkey CLXVIII
Without fear or favor,
we float, we bathe,
we become the referent.
The meteor shower empowers us.
My sweetheart muses
that no double-decker bus
or sandwich has ever been
as double as we
at that moment, no
need to make wishes
on falling nickel and stone.
We make it out a little
more alive than we started.
It is five in the morning
or in the sky, or we are
five in the morning and leaving
our tails to return
to a world less spacious,
less quiet, less aware
of atmosphere and its tendencies
to rend and protect.
Glen Armstrong holds an MFA in English from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and teaches writing at Oakland University in Rochester, Michigan. He edits a poetry journal called Cruel Garters and has three current books of poems: Invisible Histories, The New Vaudeville, and Midsummer. His work has appeared in Poetry Northwest, Conduit, and Cream City Review.
Sandi Sweeney is a mixed media artist. Her love of nature provides the inspiration for the pieces she creates and her approach is eclectic and whimsical. She enjoys transforming naturals and found objects into unique pieces of art, pushing the boundaries of her imagination.