Tuesday, September 5, 2017

After the Bookstore Closed (Day 230)

about an hour after 
our local bookstore closed
the sky darkened
to green   the wind came   sideways   
from nowhere   thunder 
racked my house and slam-banged 
around   an old man grumbling   
on a brittle winter day   so like 
human beings   their cultures gathered 
around clouds of voices   raising heat 
and ugliness   the sounds distress me   
my body reflecting   not just words but 
the humid heavy breath of the street   
blowsy   a little hot   they keep saying   
our bright star is exploding   our world 
set ablaze   eyes like deep pools 
of wisdom   and fascist fists are
pummeling my heart   if I can fight this 
I might stop falling into the jade sky   
and wake up warm and safe and dry 
but   on the other hand   we could be 
staring down the inscrutable
barrel of a millennial storm


(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Photo: terren