Whose bleeding feet have stained
these clouds to pretty pink?
but some pariah
castigated
unfairly or not.
Is it your duty to scorn
what also sleeps in your own heart?
Maybe reversed,
maybe smaller,
maybe not as noticeable,
but there.
Everyone’s got everything
jumbled up inside.
We’re kaleidescopes,
each one
just a twist or two
away from any other.

Phoebe Wilcox lives in eastern Pennsylvania. Some of her favorite things are John Banville novels, sushi, salamanders (they have cute hands) and picking blueberries. Her novel, Angels Carry the Sun is pending publication with Lilly Press, and an excerpt from a second novel-in-progress has been published in “Wild Violet.” Recent and forthcoming work may be found in “Sixers Review,” “Bartleby-Snopes,” “A cappella Zoo,” “Gloom Cupboard,” “The Chaffey Review,” “Calliope Nerve” and others. Her story, “Carp with Water in Their Ears,” published in “River Poets Journal” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Website: www.phoebewilcox.com