lightning bolts sky to earth
thunder growls menace
gone-purple clouds roll low
but the rain doesn’t fall
crowds
gathered to watch their children
in feats of strength and speed
stare instead upward
to gauge the fireworks
whisper of the wisdom
of aluminum bleachers
the risk of voltage
but don’t move
unnoticed
shots
on a repeating track
triumph and heartbreak
crackle in the haze
of adolescence
hurdles cleared
races run
batons passed
eyes met
unseen
count the seconds
from then to now
judge the approach
of what’s to come
It seems like only yesterday
they agree
in an apartment across town
a man runs weathered fingers
along the windowsill
imagining, if he is very still
and very quiet
he might grasp something of her left behind
in the whiskered texture of the
stroked paint
outside, sirens wail
below the thunder
posted notice
for him
count the seconds
from then to now
judge the approach
of what’s to come
It seems like only yesterday
she was here
thunder and lightning merge
behind the report
of his refusal
to vacate
unseen
sirens merge with blood
the world wears on
sticky with unfallen skies
crowds
seatbelt their futures
inch home
curse the delay
of police action
behind dry glass
small talk
this storm isn’t theirs
they won’t claim it
eyes straight ahead
count the seconds
from then to now
what’s to come
unmet
only
yesterday
I love this one. That is all.
Much appreciated, lovely you.
Thank you.
Unparalleled.
Yet unmet.
Still.
This made me look toward the unarticulated past. Which is somewhat unusual.
Can’t figure out why.
Maybe there is no why.
Really love this!
Awww … thank you.
I am fond of love.
Love.
me
“…count the seconds…
A sense of urgency and loss.
Beautiful.
Every time I see lightning, I count the seconds … one Mississippi two Mississippi three Mississi …
A sense of control in a moment of chaos.
Here is where I stand.
Thank you.
me