Beat of an angry sky.

The skies echo with the beat of far off anger,
perhaps out at sea,
or over the depths of beyond.
The gulls squawk into the darkness,
coming inland to find shelter.
Early morning cars take the corner
leaving this dismal town behind them.
The sun’s ascent is merely an hour off,
and the skies lighten at his bidding,
the heavens remain dark,
the angels leave me numbers.
And hunger.

Karen Hayward ©2016

Advertisements

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s