the wind at the end of the world
(Published in the collection “broken light in a burning wood)
we’ve all heard of the super storms,
the fire tornadoes,
the rising tides,
the ember clouds
and the dry, cracking ground.
we all see these pictures as the aching future in our heads,
but I didn’t expect the wind.
that great push of the world between snow and swelter.
how the trees bend.
how the sky moves faster than the very spin of the world.
how we squint our red eyes at the dust specs and brightness.
this era will be remembered, if there are any left to do so,
by the ripping air of the days and the roar in the dark.
torn off rooves.
fallen branches.
untethered tarps
floating like plastic phantoms
or fallen flags of a forgotten nation.
