Under the tree-filtered sun,
it’s Golden Hour and we
sit sipping peaches. Gilded
haze and sideways light make
the finest bouillon. In this
cathedral of days, we spin
gossamer threads, weave
the gold into our tresses.
There’s a reason the eve’s
last breaths are bullion – to
squeeze the bellows of day,
an accordion wheezing til
sun-drenched corners all
shine. A great set of lungs,
exhaling the glitter, slow-
drifting us into the night.

Jesse Holth is a freelance writer and editor based in Victoria, BC. Her writing has been featured in over half a dozen international publications, and her poetry was recently selected for a gallery exhibition. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Silver Birch Press, Yellow Chair Review, the University of Regina Press, and others. She is a 2017 Pen 2 Paper poetry finalist, and is currently working on two full-length collections of poetry.

Written by: marathonlitreview on March 21, 2018.on June 7, 2018.