Walking down the long main street
the hot summer night is falling on you
& there's a faded light in those windows
silver like mirrors but you pay it no eye
not when there's thunder far and away
a storm in the west, a road somewhere else
you dream, dream there's still a bus
your eyes are painted through with silver light!
no longer faded. This means it's time to go.
The stars fell toward you in single file
passed through your eyes and shredded you.
Here in pieces you crawl then walk
toward the mountain's shadow growing
one foot and then another.
“Archangel” was printed in Harvest Time, No. 5 of Inwood Indiana. Pick up the paperback from Prolific Press; the stories and poems published online are free to read here.
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