In the Stacks


The stories stack in Lego-blocks marching up the hills
Brick upon tremulous brick
Birth upon death upon memory
Rainbow of lives piled high
Declaiming what lies within
Vivid kelly, life’s tranquil color,
Yellow screaming to be seen,
Sky-envied cerulean
Dots of wine and blood.
Lines and rows, rinse and repeat,
Library spilled upon the cliffs.
Each tumbled block holds close
The skittering ones within.
‘Notice me’ applied with brush and roller
To hide the beige of glacier-days
Never-ending afternoons filled with empty
And ‘how long’, accreting into light-speed years
Shoved over canyon edge into nothingness.

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
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