By Faith Rhodes

Oldfields School

The colors of a summer night’s sunset,

engulfing a sphere. Sprinkles of sugar

fall of the sides of the spoon, dancing onto

the fiery soul. Once a soul full of rage, now calmed by the dancers.

Younglings purse their lips

when the sunset rests upon them.


A galaxy filled with their

enriching souls. Day by day,

one by one, plucked from the sky.


The summer mornings when I, too

was a youngling. My mother and I plunged

our spoons into the core of the sun. scooped out,

like ice cream, drops of the sun, dripping off

the spoon then streaming down the bowl. Once

the fire had danced on our tongues, we learned

What stars really taste like.

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