Onward

in the broth of morning light
of the morning sun
the facade of night ebbs away
as the stars gnaw upon their lips
stretch and crane their necks to see and to stay
but they drop like bullet shells clanking to the ground, those stars,
and the sky thrusts its torch onward to the battlefield
and the broth of morning light
of morning sun
stirs and broils
with the fallen souls of thousands of stars.
-anna sluder

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