We have left our souls to dry on yesterday’s sun.
Let the flies and the monsters of the air enjoy them.
Broken wings and umbrellas contaminate the sky,
but the earth is an endless book if you know
how to turn the pages.
Ancient moons bathe in the backdoor seas
and study the language of jellyfish.
No two words should begin with the same vowel,
each clock should display its own time.
Fluted memories of decomposing driftwood
cherish ice cream maps of abandoned gardens.
An average raindrop can’t open all its mouths at once.
Ivan Peledov lives in Colorado. His poems have appeared in Impspired, Ponder Savant, Unlikely Stories, Sonic Boom, and other publications.