Our nights come gifting
us with burning stars,

sifted by the contours
this language carves.

We, gang of pushers
of verbal flowers
awaiting orders

from our stars to bury
us in showers.

Our suns rise all night,
ripping packaging off
talents coming wrapped
inside life.

-A.H. Jerriod Avant

“What a cache of treasures this collection is, what a cache of jewels. […] All are reminders of what the best, briefest poems can do: give back the world to us, as it passes, in the mirror of a few well-chosen words.”

-Cecilia Woloch

Other posts from Bigger Than They Appear:

• “Subjubctive” by Andrew Merton
• “A Day at the Chemo Spa” by Cristina Trapani-Scott
• “January Wind/Isaiah” by Martha Gehringer
• “Match-Made” by Dariel Suarez
• “A Poet’s Night” by A. H. Jerriod Avant

A. H. Jerriod Avant was raised in Longtown, Mississippi. A Jackson State University alumnus, he’s currently a 2nd-year MFA (poetry) student at Spalding University in Louisville, Kentucky.