Above Us Only Sky
Heretic
She was walking in a hill-less park
the day she knew there was no God;
she heard it in the trees
(a reverse epiphany of sorts)
singing like a choir of bush fairies
hollered up from the earth by the ants
as she trod
upon them.
Her dog's feet padded on the dirt, solidly,
the firmness still beneath them, cool and black.
The sky did not crack, the wind did not mourn.
Instead, the soft pink scent of wild roses poured
over her like her lovers tongue,
and it was good.
Kim Hunter
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