persistent sunshine, no darkness,
a day that curdled green leaves falling,
rotting upon dried lawn
spotted with insects desiccated,
fragile carcasses littered
beneath the lessening shade of trees.
He walked between sagging sycamores,
crossing the street,
asphalt which singed his soles,
his face aglow, burnt to a crimson hue,
on his way to the river
where others must be waiting.
Soon he will swim under the soundless sun,
water easing his burns,
submerged in the cascading current
in order to survive this day without end,
dressed in a white shirt and shorts,
a luminosity that mimicked the sun
as he approached the shoreline
where the crowd swam,
he whispering how the sun became a threat,
that all will suffer then dry, so we must sing
before our remnant ashes disperse,
that an earnest song
will bear us wings to embark
on our journey from earth,
for due to our negligence,
the rules have changed
and our bodies can only go so far.
Michael Keshigian is the author of 14 poetry collections his latest, What To Do With Intangibles, published by Cyberwit.net. Most recent poems have appeared in Muddy River Review, Sierra Nevada Review, Bluepepper, San Pedro River Review, Tipton Poetry Journal. Published in numerous national and international journals, he has 7 Pushcart Prize and 2 Best Of The Net nominations.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.