the sun rinses

the stark winter branches

with a wash of pale

merciless radiance

across the street

a child muffled snugly

in a throbbing blue coat

whirls across

the undissolved ice

& now, from the bus

people sparkle & spill

like a jar of glowering

marbles (luminous

in their glass-fragile skin)

my mouth is a boat

flooded with green tea

and my heartbeat:

a grace note, redeemed

what wealth have I hurried

unwittingly by,

curtains drawn

to the light

of my life?

Esther Ra is the author of A Glossary of Light and Shadow (forthcoming, Diode Editions) and book of untranslatable things (2018, Grayson Books). Her work has been published in Boulevard, Rattle, The Rumpus, and PBQ, among others, and received awards including the Pushcart Prize and 49th Parallel Award. (estherra.com)