Inner Woman Volume 2

an empty mason jar

sits on a picnic table

the midnight sun

ever gold

ever red

never relinquishing

the dark

summer sunset ricochets

a prism star

through curves clear

freshly washed

a spoon silhouetted

starkly black

inside

stands

like my humbled

soul

alone

unnoticed

midst the bountiful beauty

inside the cathedral

of day’s end