January 15, 2020

Ben Terry

A BRIGHT FUTURE

This morning I saw the sun
Give birth to a string of stars,
Laid like a garland atop the barbwire
Outside my window.
With one eye drowning in my flattened pillow,
I watched and counted.
Nine minutes from conception to death.
Nothingness, brilliance, nothingness.
An entire generation of light
Passed like morning wood.

from Rattle #65, Fall 2019

__________

Ben Terry: “About three years into serving the sentence of life without parole, I had a King Solomon moment one morning where the shortness of life and wasted opportunity overwhelmed me as I stared out the window. Yet in short order I was forced to laugh, because apparently half of me seemed obliviously optimistic.”

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