Incandescent

POETRY

by Susan Johnson

For a while it was amazing: people
became deer and deer became trees

and trees became libraries that turned
into greenhouses full of tulips on fire.

Everything eager to move on, even
as it digs further in. A woman wonders

who she will become today. An explorer
uncovering dinosaur tracks by the river?

An artist sculpting birds out of wind
and fern? It seems all she’s done is peel

an orange until her fingernails are painted
with pith and rind. She wonders how

others have unlocked themselves as if life
were the trunk of a car. She decides what

she’d like to be is a match, incandescent,
the brightest camper in the room. She strikes

her head against her stove hoping for
sparks. Nothing. Strikes again. Her head

splinters. But then there’s a flicker as
flames take hold. For a while it’s amazing.