Dana Kinsey

Show Me, Earth, Your Day

under your cerulean umbrella
with its silver-spoked
bluejay roads, open my eyes, Eos.
Earth of jazzy oceans scatting &
frolicking, daydreams frothy
as giggling clouds, like honey-filled
pearls of perspiration polka-dotting
cartwheeling kids in my backyard.
Show me your dimples, Earth.
Stick out your tongue. Touch me.
I’ll open my jacket to take you in.
With watercolor I’d fill cold spaces,
places where sadness runs from you.
Show me your sparkliest day;
a choir praising your canary coat
so I can savor every grace note.
Lead me to your castle door, your
dance floor, your rowdy parades
that erupt to choreography I’ve
never done before. Show me hot
kisses accustomed to hiding
under blurred starlight. Show them
without navy night to shame them.
Among your astonishing avenues,
earth, toss across rocks & rhythms;
give me reasons to climb to rooftops;
the abandon I lack when your light is
dim & in your lush rain showers,
drench me in deep powers &
I’ll show you what a girl can do
with a few thousand more of you.

~after Coral Bracho

Dana Kinsey is an actor and teacher published in Fledgling Rag, Drunk Monkeys, ONE ART, On the Seawall, Sledgehammer Lit, West Trestle Review, Better Than Starbucks, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, Red Ogre Review, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Prometheus Dreaming, and Prose Online. Dana’s play, WaterRise, was produced at the Gene Frankel Theatre. Her chapbook, Mixtape Venus, is published by I. Giraffe Press.