Post #4

Photo by William Eggleston

Untitled
Kimberly Wang

Too soon to shed our winter coat, the wind against your pretty skin, the sky pressing in bruises, the hollow of your bones collecting the last night//before the storm set in.

Storm Doors
Sarah Van Name

Wake up late, slow to the light. Electricity cut short like a wire sentence half finished on the way to lamps and ventilation systems. Air gets cooler now, draws the warmth from your blood, pull your arm across the chest of your husband. The monstrous wail of car tires on highway blacktop. Press and release of wind making love with the tall grass. And the long-approaching gospel of thunder roaring God’s word over your skinny shingled roof.

Underneath the sound of this salvation/condemnation, the kitten-like mewling of a child sent home early from school.