Sunday, April 21, 2019

day EIGHT HUNDRED and TWENTY TWO

Red Lightning

A sprawl of light takes over the night’s horizon.
The authorities are quick to shoot down theories
that it’s something otherworldly or problematic.

There isn’t very much below us or above us—
it turns out we were short-sighted once again.
Talking to no one—or else myself—I say,
“I’m going to have nightmares tonight.”

But, then, this isn’t about me. It’s about us.
All of us. We’re in this damn thing together.
It seems to me that we forget that these days.

She suggested we sit and watch the country
burn and destroy itself—the way we knew
it always would. I guess I hadn’t realized
that it would be televised. But there it was.

For a moment, I think a little about the things
I would save if I could save them. Even though
it’s pointless. Even though they’re already gone.

--Scott Silsbe

No comments: