Smog accumulates loved ones
in our lungs, blackening air laced
with carcinogens yet—
when the sun from Montauk crests
the Whitestone Bridge—cirrus
catching plumes of sherbet gilt
lavender more dramatic
than museum paintings—
we see pain has made us
spectacular.

© Matt Pasca

excerpt from A Thousand Doors (J.B. Stillwater, 2011) and published here with the poet’s permission

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