By Dianne Bilyak

A radiance pours over
the city of 10,000 rooftops.
Flat water reflects flat light.
A road unravels down the mountainside.

Six doors to each room,
so many ways to make a false start.
Still, the world won’t come when you call it.

He left for another shadow.
Be the praying mantis and tear him in two.
Who said the teeth are not a tool?

Palm against palm, our closest relative.
The last bit of warmth fills the
threshold between screen and sill
judging the minute distance of our skin.

Dianne Bilyak has had poems published in Peregrine, Freshwater, Re-Imagining the Divine and Palimpsest. She is currently attending YDS through the Institute of Sacred Music to study religion and literature.