Ascension

from my melted pink bedroom
a world of shade and lemonade and rain
lies bathed in all that is august
just beyond the fence

and my father the carpenter
he keeps the pickets straight
while my mother plants ivy designed to slip
lithe tongue into the honey
of the other side

the place for whose promise we pray
and from whose leakage we subsist
as we sit
scrubbing old batteries
of their own acid

as we watch
the ceiling tiles rot
counting spots of wet decay as blessings
miracles of motion on a dead-end road

and as my imagined sister
the pressure-treated angel
dreams of a life
where the ice cream truck
will come around
someday

By Zoe Blue

Biography:

Zoe Blue writes about hope and the many colors childhood takes on in memory. Her work has been published in Little River and Electric Cereal. In June she put her first e-book, Redemption Center, out into the world. More of her work is forthcoming on her portfolio blog, byzoeblue.tumblr.com.