Alan James Roll

Look up, greet sparks of fire with salted eyes,
For he’s a burning atmospheric sigh:
One blaze of liquid flame on midnight sky,
Soft orbital decay, and last goodbye.
...

Among the small graves a soft shaft of sunlight gently rains
On a memory; etches, as a glittering finger,
Golden corn field hair, ignites eyes sweet as the sea’s blue plains,
Traces lips pink as Mary’s carnation tears and lingers…
...

And she is floating, drifting out, above
The fading rooftops and the concrete haze
Of dirty tenements; a fume choked dove
Shedding city clothes, upward lifting gaze
...

And look: outside the window neon moons
Are shining, splashing slanting sea blue rays
Against the pastel walls of Sally’s room,
Against posters friends gave on past birthdays.
...

Fifteen
Her eyes stained glass, her hair peroxide blond,
A uniform of blue her schooldays dress,
Shining as the classroom’s lighthouse beacon
...

Sixteen
On a beach in printed swimsuit, flower
Blossoms' blue on white over puppy fat,
'Just a teenage thing, ' her mother told her,
...