After by Amy L. George
I step onto the porch after the rain,
feel the cold wood, wet beneath my feet,
soft tingle of smoke in moist air.
The neutral sky
hangs between day and night,
ruled by neither sun nor stars.
I walk past the neighbors'
hear them bickering through the walls,
words radiating like escaping heat,
spilling out into the yard.
She wants to know where he's been.
Not even the clouds answer.
In the street, all is silence
and enlarged life, every sense
heightened as if the dead earth
has been reborn, despite
the absence of dawn.
I wonder where you are.
The mist falls, brushing my arm softly,
the look in your eyes before the rain,
back when all was bold and bright.
feel the cold wood, wet beneath my feet,
soft tingle of smoke in moist air.
The neutral sky
hangs between day and night,
ruled by neither sun nor stars.
I walk past the neighbors'
hear them bickering through the walls,
words radiating like escaping heat,
spilling out into the yard.
She wants to know where he's been.
Not even the clouds answer.
In the street, all is silence
and enlarged life, every sense
heightened as if the dead earth
has been reborn, despite
the absence of dawn.
I wonder where you are.
The mist falls, brushing my arm softly,
the look in your eyes before the rain,
back when all was bold and bright.