The sky is trying to blue again
Through the layers of
Suspended smoke over our valley
We have watched for weeks as skies turn
First orange, blood-red, then chartreuse
Sickly-green grey-green
Oops the grey-grey, white – a pallor
That shifts dominating our
Choices – lung exposure or recycled breath
This morning, though – the Sun
Seemed determined to shine
As though signaling to us
to keep shining
Blue through the grey and haze
Blue through the muted blurs
Landscape a ghost
Evidence and document of all
The ways we must change
—
Melissa Eleftherion (she/they) is a writer, a librarian, and a visual artist. Born & raised in Brooklyn, they are the author of two poetry collections, field guide to autobiography (The Operating System, 2018), & gutter rainbows (Querencia Press, 2024), and twelve chapbooks including abject sutures (above/ground press, 2024). Melissa now lives in Northern California where she manages the Ukiah Branch Library, curates the LOBA Reading Series, and serves as Poet Laureate Emeritus of the City of Ukiah. Recent work is available at www.apoetlibrarian.wordpress.com.
