poem
Volume 29, Number 2

Illegal Light

It is always dawn

in the world somewhere, always absolute
night that arrives at the speed of light

from another exploded myth. A shower

of ash writes the book at once, and it is
published in blood to end all speculation about

the chance that no such thing as a man exists

and no such dream as a woman in love
with a lock of hair. If she holds it tight

to her breast or tries to tape it to a star,

we’d have no choice but to believe.


—Brad Maxfield