Calmed lightnings in the evening sky Shuttle, like warm humans, from sty to sty. If ever there were an evening readiest 5 For comparisons, gilded in flashes, half real, It is this evening, blotched by light, Spumed with cloudy figures of our imagining. 10 And so the erratic discharges of our thoughts Are themselves significant, Indicative perhaps of the circuits that we make Circling one disaster and another catastrophe, 15 Symptoms of a discord so profound, Malevolent fragrances of black, pitted things, That long_fruited hopes have withered, and everlasting airs 20 Crimp their silvery middles tiredly And the brazen horizon awes us a little less With its simmering magnificence 25 Dull a little, and a little cold even in summer, Shunted to one side a little, and old and used. Wormy lightnings, restore the discords of your colorings; These are the makings of our end.
From the collection "Constellations in December"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.