The Sun and Flowers, My Heaven's Neighbors
Olivia Cyrus
Germantown, Tennessee, USA
Collierville High School
Poetry
A stateless rain beats across
The scaffolding of my apartment
They’re here
Bearing gifts of knowledge
I turn a mahogany cheek to in
This plasticky, overdone jungle
My desire to clutch assimilation between
Cracked hands, bitten nails
Separates me from my ancestry
Makes the foxtail grass cave in on itself
An armadillo to the intolerant eyes of the world
It runs over and through me
On a day that breathes a stream of optimism
More so than its former and latter
I take myself on a one-way trip without destination
Directed at the tapestry above
Strewn with fabrics of flamboyant
Glitzy stars
Each with a wrinkled face of past generations
Neighboring the sun and touching
Scarred interstellar dreams on Jupiter
And Saturn
I am a girl without country when I neglect
My home, my birthplace
My origin
I slip out of the embrace
Of those I feel but never see
Their mouths go dry, their lips crack,
And their throats bruise black
Trying to call to me
They tried to warn me,
Of the azure eyes bearing poisonous hemlock
But I never listened
Allowed my ignorance
So syrupy and sweet on desperate tongues
To envelop conscience, shank hearts
And muddle better judgment
While I work for a lesser master
They counted stars
The purest currency for promise
No pinky swears
Just feet pounding on the soil
And hands groping at the sky
Begging for a response
Maybe I’ll see them again
Half a century from now
Adorned in silk robes
Tattooed with chamomile and lilac
A crown of gold and remembrance
Kissing their precious and seasoned temples
EDITORIAL PRAISE
A rainy night in an apartment. A hop, skip, and a jump into the past (and between each line). A dream for the future. “The Sun and Flowers, My Heaven’s Neighbors” follows a narrator contemplating their everyday struggles in comparison to their ancestors’, all while hoping to see them opulently adorned in florals and regality. Blossoming with wistful honesty and an everlasting flow, this poem demands acknowledgment for both itself and others.
Olivia C. is a writer from Tennessee. She is passionate about poetry and entertainment/social journalism. She can be found editing/writing for the Blue Marble Review and her personal blog the Cyrus Piece (https://oliviacyrus.wordpress.com/). When she is not watching football, she is learning how to cook roti, procrastinating, and dreaming about learning how to play the jazz flute.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR