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August 03, 2007
"The Gripping"
“The Gripping”
(by me)
Black clouds’
Sharp fingers grip
The unsuspecting nape of
Soft blue sky
Constricting what was left of
A perfect Saturday afternoon
The sun,
Mysterious as ever,
Withdraws under covers
Tired after warding off imminent obscurity
Probably thinking
He could sleep in tomorrow
Ants scurry
To tie down mounds
Making sure the lights
In all of the exit signs are lit
Pointing to the single pinhole of brightness
That’s mocking them by quickly dimming
Lightly at first
Almost affectionate —
Hard to believe from such pointy digits
But then the true side shows
The surface never hides what’s underneath
For long
Rumbles roll
Subsonic and slow
Then strike
And another and another
Faster than the eye now
Effortlessly finding their marks
The lightlessness weighs heavy
Until one after the other,
From blows to patters,
Love returns
Right?
Maybe.
Posted at 08:07 am
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