The sky ignites reluctantly
like damp autumn leaves
heaped then forced alight
by kerosene
and persistence.
Meanwhile, the wind wails
with resistance,
battering roofs and chimes
strung up on porches.
Silver sound showers.
Now, shadows stretch
deep and stark across
blade-butchered lawns,
determined it seems
to snuff out
the bloom,
and buzz,
and song.
I watch a pale
sun rise
dizzy with
the strain
of holding open
my leaden eyes,
that ache
to shut
again.
pm poetry 