Tuesday, September 10, 2013

(love, lightning)

is like standing in a field
waiting to be struck by lightning.

It sounds pretty.

It sounds like it
would make a very pretty poem.

But then there is the lightning
and everything is hot and bright
and painful and silent
and there is something
inside of you
pinning you deaf to the ground.

Some people
stand back up

but some people stay there
lying in that field
arms wide
having forgotten why they asked for this
in the first place.
~Lewis Mundt

In honor of our nightly lightning storms here in this neck of the woods. If it were to rain like this everywhere, we would all drown.

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