B r a d R o s e
Light, Heat, Clarity
My lawyers are suing your lawyers,
you little cheater.
Just because I’m gentle and pacific
doesn’t mean I’m obtuse.
And right under my nose, too.
The red ants swerve their way across
our kitchen floor.
As they near the stove,
they detect the heat of their own burning bush,
and epiphanic, lead themselves out
of this desert, toward a promised land,
where God awaits with no honey, infinite sand.
