the many implications of a [ ]

by Samantha R. Peloquin

twelve streetlights glimmer,
flames in gaslit golden and orange hues
dancing unsteadily within
lead-frosted panes
each marking a front porch,
a doorway, a chance encounter:
branching reliably from a
slate sidewalk, inscrutable
littered with half-smoked cigarettes
[fallen from the waning apathetic lips
of those who have yet to lose
everything]
that yearn to be extinguished

the street was paved with silver discs
that became molten and sticky beneath smoldering
sunlight, mercury and caramel that stuck
to our soles and let us be traced
back to the beginning.
the dust that flies swiftly
across great expanses—prairie,
desert, ocean—consists of
desiccated paper that detailed and
documented ephemeral lives: calm wood,
a crescendo of frantic
significance and attributed value.
centuries, earth, forest follow,
a recovery of silence abundant