ACROSS THE TECHNOLOGY OF SPACE

by Byron Beynon

The day has been worn to dust.
I feel the sun,
each precise explosion,
I sense each grain of light
across the technology of space.
The sway of heat
has silenced the midday.
I see the lizard
at home by the glazed sea,
I taste the warm spray
on the tongue of a steamy ocean.
The beads trickle
fierce and melting
as the sand is extinguished
by the salt.