Sudden Illumination

Clinging to a garden wall,
I warn axes going up across
the field to go dark, to burn

far less. They have control
of everything and really
only answer to themselves.

In a crazy manner, I crash
into a crab harvest, shooting
meteoric patterns of color

over schoolroom windows.
As the world loses doors
with sweet adieu, I exhibit

paintings inspired by parties
on the beach. Fishing for bees
amid rip currents is my life.

I love its tracks, its splashy
native language of redemption
and grace. For the first time,

I see lighthouses, courtesy
of the waves, downright
embarrassed of themselves.


Cliff Saunders is the author of several poetry chapbooks, including Mapping the Asphalt Meadows (Slipstream Publications) and This Candescent World (Runaway Spoon Press). He lives in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, and his poems have appeared recently in The Midwest Quarterly, Plainsongs, Book of Matches and more.