dispatches to and from

nathan f. elmore

Dispatches to and from faith, culture, and things in between

Vegas Skies

Vegas Skies

 

Down on their luck, three sparrows fluttered and glided

in the rafters of the Paris casino. Above them, only the faux sky,

 

the painted limits. Surely nothing below seemed familiar –

except, maybe, those world-famous baguettes.

 

On earth, all the gamblers anonymous had flown away

to the other universe, where tongues go mute and saliva

 

drips like coins, where taste dries up –

for lost birds, and crunchy, buttery baguettes.

 

Is anyone going to say something to these simple creatures?

About happenstance and coincidence, about illusion

 

and escape, about the pleasure of finding a little crumb,

or perhaps, if you’re lucky, a whole baguette.

nfe