Captured Light
She holds the firefly sun in her palm like a stolen sacrament,
the moon fat and watching, complicit as a mother who knows
her daughter has been swallowing stars again, collecting constellations
in mason jars because the city below keeps forgetting how to illuminate itself.
The mountains are shadows of sleeping gods, the water a mirror
where drowned churches ring their bells for no one but the current.
She is enormous, impossible, a girl-shaped universe offering light back to the sky.
-Artwork created in Photoshop and additional image-painting programs
-Poetry written by me
-both copyright to ©Stacy Stephens
-Poetry written by me
-both copyright to ©Stacy Stephens