Folio · 2017

Pink (Santa Cruz)

Spencer Roddan

The beaches are covered with messages from

a promised land. I crush the red sand in my hand, walk.

Trailers of jets streamed over the horizon,

the imprint of giants backs

sleeping on the clouds above.


In this shallow water a purple

reef, scoured, clinging to the walls.

Waves talk as if they haven’t seen

me for years.

Standing stones

knocked to the shore

raise the spectacle of false hope

One sky, one ground, all is still

The clouds are a wavy plain

I want to show you the world over in beauty

There is no love or art of degrees, and you

always receive me, the patient, the student.

Constriction of the heart



An angel is the imprint

of moth wings


on a window

There is a moment of dots, precipice, and pinnacles

just before setting, locked in its moment of ecstasy

the sky is pink, the ocean is purple.

Folio · 2017