Paul S. Rowe
CALDERA

pale light surges from the horizon line,
its glimmer ripples the water’s edge in strands

—apparitions of life hastily scrawled
upon the crumpled glass of Aegean twilight;

volcanic wasps rise, sulfurous effusions,
mercurial breath that carves the crater, admits the flood,

shapes the ochre crescent, mirrors what’s above.

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