“On the Third Strike” by A.J. Huffman

of the hour of a motionless world, I am all
shivering mind and drained body. Reticence
is my lidless coffin. I lie willingly within
its embrace, watching the battle between
ceiling and sky. I know the stars will be
victorious, no tangible construct can confine
them. They glow in my view long after
the sun has silenced their light. My tears
act as memory’s mirror, dropping
their embered essence into the garish fire
of another day.
For more poems by A.J., check out FIVE Vol. 1 No. 4.