Written On
A Postcard
Dah Helmer
Light is shaky
black as night’s tempest
nervous as cyclones
in eyes of horses
Winter’s last voodoo
cracks the air
destroying trees
like sinking ships
I sail through the rain
pushed
by the wind
telling myself
it’s just another distance
like spent lovers
bending, wrinkling
growing like corrosion
no longer wanting touch
I know how it feels
to lament from far-off
but this is here
not distance
not a postcard’s photo
of gray clouds
This is what happens
when goose bumps
no longer follow kisses
when rain breaks then shatters
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