Saturday, December 3, 2016

Magdalena Ball #19: Storm Cloud

Storm cloud

There’s a name for this bleak sky
written in charcoal pencil
somewhere in the bottom of
the well you draw water from

today, tomorrow
time leaves me cold
wanting more

it's with me now
familiar as a childhood bed
darkening with age
returning every so often to
remind us all of where
entropy ends

the heat death of the universe
thermodynamic equilibrium

isn’t that what we’re
working towards

my eyes wander to the page
face the night, slowly, and with care
it’s never quite what it seems
the whiteness is startling

in the dark era
when all these collective sensations
become tears washed into rain
storm clouds
move overhead

the sky crackles with thunder
that no one hears


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