skyscaping

M.A. Hoak

purple fingers stretching out
above a bed  

 of orange peonies
dusted with just a brush of pink
on their shy, wispy cheeks

behind them: a soft swatch of blue
(the kind you see in baby blankets)
it cradles them above a drowsy landscape— 

 a world dripping wet
with gold 

 but then, in the midst of it all,
a single strand of white
trails across the sky

the milky remains of a foreign object
that forced itself
through her softness

without a single, cursory thought
of the emptiness 

it would leave behind

 


M.A. Hoak is a secular Southerner who enjoys subverting stereotypes. Her work explores the juxtaposition between faith and doubt, oppression and empowerment, and society and the individual. A graduate of Vermont College of Fine Arts, her poetry can be found in Cantilevers and The Saw Palm.

Image credit: Rebecca Bacon Ehlers