Goldilocks Zone – Sarah Bridgins
of cigarette smoke and strong perfume,
Kools and Ralph Lauren.
When I was a child,
my mother let me put on her lipstick
in the car before school,
served us dinner on her wedding china
then disappeared for days.
What universal order places certain planets
at a life-sustaining distance
from their sun?
While others blaze in their proximity,
frost over due to darkness?
When a sun dies it leaves behind
a dense mass of thermal energy,
a luminous remnant
of what it once was.
When a person dies,
they leave behind
silver jewelry, paperweights.
Sarah Bridgins is a writer and performer living in Brooklyn. Her poems have appeared in Sink Review, Monkeybicycle, InDigest, Thrush, Two Serious Ladies, Bone Bouquet, and NAP among other journals. You can find more of her work at: http://sbridgins.tumblr.com/.