Hitchhikers

The force of the blow

shakes the water.

Ripples become waves

and waves become monsters.

Climbing higher and higher,

they obscure the Sun

and rain down fire upon us,

a tragic symphony.

With words

that were wild then,

we explained the darkness.

We woke to each other

in a tepid fever.

The road was quiet

and our mouths were timid,

too lake to actuate

our missions now,

we call down rain.

Even the deluge is

better than the fire.

The landscape breathes

and the Earth tires.

Wishing to sleep

in a boundless sea;

we are transient,

souls departed.

Hitching a ride

to the next best thing.

 

HG – 2019

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s