Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Breaking Open

Standing on the hill with the warm wind wrapping my arms
The sky a stretch of charcoal fading to green about the rim
The roll of thunder unfolds above my head
I feel it as it goes

Questions stretch like a web, questions for which I find no answers
Of what could have been or should have been
For what might yet be
For you, for me

A sharp flicker like a blade bolts across the black
Splitting sky from sky, cloud from cloud
Like splitting open a skin
The water falls

The water falls overwhelming and indiscriminate
Spattering dust upon my leather boots
Rolling in stinging rivulets
Down my cheeks

The water roils and flows on top of the gingery duff
It spits and slides upon my sleeves
Its cold burns my skin as it sinks
Into my upturned hands


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