THiCKER THAN THiEVES
Hailed Swelling of the Brain
WE ARE WEATHER,
NOT HAND GRENADES,
WiTH AN ABRUPT FADE...
SUBTLE WADES THROUGH
AN OXYGEN-HYDROGEN HAZE.
AT LEAST TWO OF US ONE
JUMPiNG ON OR TOSSiNG OFF
OUR EXPLOSiVE HUMANiTY
FOR THE HOPE OF REAL...
FEELED iMPACT...iNTACT;
WHERE YES, iT WOULD BE
SO MUCH EASiER TO jUST...BLOW...
UP...UP...AND ASTRAY?
"THEY LOOK LiKE GOOD,
STRONG HANDS...DON'T THEY?"
ViRGiN WORDS FROM A
VETERAN MOUTH
FOR ViSiTORS FROM
MY HOMELAND.
REiGN COATS NEEDED
FOR THE RAiN, BUT ALSO
FOR THE THUNDERiNG LiMESTONE
TRAPPED UNDER OUR THUMBNAiLS.
GLASS FEATHERS
ON A WOODEN BiRD
HELD WiTH BOTH HANDS;
NOT AFRAiD OF THE SPLiNTERS
NOR THE FALLiNG OF DEAD LEAVES.
P.S. BUY MOM FLOWERS BEFORE THE END OF THE WEEK.
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More stories from jAKE RiCHARDSON and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Light Turns
It's Tuesday 7:13 a.m. A cold and clear November morning awaits Ray on his morning commute. Ray rubs his hands together in the front seat of his Subaru. He turns the air temperature up, but keeps the air on low until the air warms up. He looks at the backup camera screen and reverses the Subaru out of his driveway onto Trimble Road.
By John R. Godwin3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
‘We are weather, not hand grenades’ I love that line so much. Great work!