Congratulations to our new Poet Laureate

When Meeting the other

Given arms, the sun
would choose to grow many.
Having many narrow arms,
the sun would—at each limb’s end—
flare into a palm and fingers,
into the curves made for reaching.

Extremities of flame, of shine.
Hands that carry enough
heat and light to give away.

Be that sun. One small sun.

—Paulann Petersen, From Kindle (Mountains and Rivers Press, 2008)

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