All Week Light

howls through the hill.
Beneath it, clarity slips

this shelter—
foggy, lucent—
glass bent in a storm

of sun. I’m not finished
but for this wall of world
waiting to yield. It’s hard

letting sand
into the body. I can’t

shake honey
out of my veins.

Lily Brown lives and teaches in the Bay Area. She is the author of Rust or Go Missing (Cleveland State University Poetry Center, 2011) and several chapbooks, including The Haptic Cold (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2013).