THIEF

Two days ago
the sun caught me stealing light
to illuminate a poem,

demanded restitution,
then reported me to Mother Nature
who posted my likeness about the land.

Soon, the ocean, forest, birds, flowers, et. al.
filed suit for substantial abuse
and complacent philandering without permission.

I pleaded guilty;
admitted taking breath from wind
for deliverance,

marshmallows from the sky to sweeten song,
and rage from the ocean
to instill a sense of urgency.

Convicted and confined to a windowless room,
no writing, visitation
or glimpses of stolen sights,

I was sentenced to imagine beauty
without embezzlement
and the wholesale exploitation of words.
 

Michael Keshigian is a performing musician and college educator in Boston. His most recent publication credits include: California Quarterly, Pegasus, Red River Review, Oyez Review, Fairfield Review, and The Sierra Nevada College Review among many other online and written periodicals. He has three published chapbooks and has had two Pushcart nominations.