by Rob Hill
Swinging blades like a lever picture
frame skips transparent
filmstrip off greased black gear.
Scissors down the calendar.
Neon white New Year’s Day
and robin’s egg Easter.
Closed down strobe of Winter.
Several seawater
futures stamped silver and black.
Steel scales layered in chlorine sting.
Gingham rays in cinder and grout sewn
together a cobblestone
memory of hovering child,
fainter by day. Fever dream
of childhood on spindly legs.
Electric clash of magnesium beaks
built of hollow hidden crosses.
Heaven’s glass knife edge
slipping through
doorway. Bird’s eye fixed to wall
like the north star.
Artist Biography: Rob Hill
Rob Hill (he/him) is a Professional and Creative Writing major at Central Washington University. He lives south of Seattle, on Muckleshoot and Coast Salish land. Having spent the first half of his life in the blue-collar world, Rob has committed himself to positive social change through scholarship and writing.