august and there really isn’t a reason to be sad by Scott Ferry

blackberries burst hypertang

blush indigo / overripe berries

slough off like old slang

roses open and open / bees

slip tongues inside filaments

until petals unwing

seabirds scream saltwind

and the sun is an edible god

inside each flesh

the hurt i carry was given

by scared people who couldn’t open

any mercy

paint covers or brightens

each of my openings—

black as new air

i can’t forgive everyone

but i can melt these

keys

fingers brush iridium ash

my heart: a small hive /

a noon burn

the fish are clocks / the gods

unwatered and each apology

to myself—

each acceptance speech—

is not at all

sincere

Scott Ferry writes things. He is a RN in the Seattle area. His latest books are The Long Blade of Days Ahead and Midnight Glossolalia (with Lillian Necakov and Lauren Scharhag). More of his work can be found at ferrypoetry.com.