the softing of the sky feels like a light breeze
but it should be something more…
something more sane…
more like rain.
what do the heavens take for congestion
the sky is scarred and scudded with clouds
that hold no promise
only a faint suggestion of rain.
the storm is straining for release
held back by a tight leash.
this is that time of heavy treads and anticipation
when the world waits in trepidation.
the dry grounds cracks, splitting slightly,
then pulling apart
gaping more widely.
children run and jump and play, stumbling.
tripping, slipping, they fall, unaware of
the dangers of sliding all the way to hell.
they forgot the ground’s warning, the rumbling,
they forgot the strangers’ mumbling,
all they can remember is the pain
of skinned knees and hot tears
and no one there
to wipe the blood or calm the fears.
let August fall to September
let September surrender to October
let me sleep until i no longer remember,
just wake me when it’s over. because,
this is that time when all the words have been said
and trust has been bent all the way backwards
like thin metal,
and when the dust settles, the silence that is left
is something almost, but not quite, dead.
the silence steals over us like something
humid…thick, sticky and electric..
lightning that is afraid to strike…
but i am not afraid to go outside
take me where the air is thick with ozone,
i am quick and don’t care if i have to go alone,
let the thunder come and yell it’s abuse
i will not run.
what’s the use?
when you are at your weakest
and feel like you can’t go on any longer
you begin to suspect that while
your roots are deep and wide,
that the wind might be a little bit stronger…
so let the lightning split my limbs
from my trunk and let the burning
as the light rain begins to finally fall…
find me free
in the place we used to be
when the flames take me
branches, leaves, and all.
© Copyright 2015. Words and Photos by Jefferson Holbrook.
All Rights Reserved.