Thursday, September 07, 2006

Unread Signs

Did you hear it in your sleep,
something passed with the groaning
of iron wheels. Did you weep
at dawn? Who was moaning
in the hallway at midnight?
Now that we’re awake and dealing
with daily business, light
makes us forget the feeling
that woke us in the dark. Under
the waxing moon of September
tonight we’ll listen for thunder
and anxiously remember—
we couldn’t read the phosphorescent glyphs
scrawled on darkness by a passing apocalypse.

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