Thunder

by June 11, 2015 0 comments

those days spent gliding through the streets
rubber on concrete and distant laughter
with the sun bearing down on our backs
you once told me you loved me
on a trip to an infamous amusement park
shortly before your sickness began
we saw funny hats and there were no long faces
then it came like a landslide
your steps grew slower and each breath more hoarse
and on a night where the sky opened wide
the rain fell like thunderous sorrow
your smile echoed through my screaming soul

editors note:

We are the thunder, heard after Death’s lightning strike. (We welcome Brittany to our crazy congress of Contributing poets with this submission. Read more of her madness, including another new one, seeking sparks, on her new page – check it out!) – mh clay

Leave a Reply