August 31st, 1999

alice lost in labyrinth

poem: Rusty Sunrise

Rusty Sunrise

Lynne Annis, who is a
co-worker of mine,
told me to look outside
the open bay doors
It was around six
in the morning near the
end of our shift when
she said the sunrise
was "rusty orange"
and reminded her of the
stain on her child's lips
after drinking orange pop
and I thought to myself
the sky does look rusty
as though it had never
drew the sun before.

ADP 31 August 1999