SAINT JULIAN PRESS
Elizabeth Cohen ~ Poet
The End of the World
Is here. Tonight.
The sky, bruised blue-black,
is grumbling.
The ground, parched and cracked
in summer, is weeping mud,
overflowing ditches.
The arroyos are birthing
new rivers, the Rio Grande
is finally grand.
After Hermit’s Peak and Calf Canyon
scarred the north, everyone, everywhere,
prayed for deluge.
Tonight, in the downpour,
the toads have come out;
in the middle of Candelaria
Someone’s bloated orange tabby
floats by. “You gotta’ be careful
what you wish for,”
Quips everyone
who has ever lived,
and they’re right.
Tonight brought it on:
selfish, brutal, apocalyptic water.
Hail. Gnats.
Scurrying cockroaches.
In the bosque, hundred-year-old
cottonwoods, down like blown wheat
Then, as suddenly as they opened,
the windows of the sky close,
a semitruck of tangerine clouds
drives up over the mountains,
followed by a hallelujah chorus
of rainbows.
Piled paint and splash light
stack three stories high,
pink and orange as a drunken rose bush.
Soon, the birds will return
to the pollinator tree.
I’ll pick up an armful of sticks,
Build an altar to all things
ending, and all things
beginning again.
Is here. Tonight.
The sky, bruised blue-black,
is grumbling.
The ground, parched and cracked
in summer, is weeping mud,
overflowing ditches.
The arroyos are birthing
new rivers, the Rio Grande
is finally grand.
After Hermit’s Peak and Calf Canyon
scarred the north, everyone, everywhere,
prayed for deluge.
Tonight, in the downpour,
the toads have come out;
in the middle of Candelaria
Someone’s bloated orange tabby
floats by. “You gotta’ be careful
what you wish for,”
Quips everyone
who has ever lived,
and they’re right.
Tonight brought it on:
selfish, brutal, apocalyptic water.
Hail. Gnats.
Scurrying cockroaches.
In the bosque, hundred-year-old
cottonwoods, down like blown wheat
Then, as suddenly as they opened,
the windows of the sky close,
a semitruck of tangerine clouds
drives up over the mountains,
followed by a hallelujah chorus
of rainbows.
Piled paint and splash light
stack three stories high,
pink and orange as a drunken rose bush.
Soon, the birds will return
to the pollinator tree.
I’ll pick up an armful of sticks,
Build an altar to all things
ending, and all things
beginning again.
Publication Date: November 15, 2023
Paperback: $20.00 Publisher: Saint Julian Press, Inc. Language: English Paperback: 94 Pages ISBN-13: 978-1-955194-39-6 |
Available Through – Bookshop.org ~ Ingram Content Group ~ Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ IndieBound
Fine Book Distributors & Retailers
Saint Julian Press, Inc. * Houston, TX 77008 * Ron Starbuck ~ Publisher-CEO
Email: ronstarbuck@saintjulianpress.com * Web: www.saintjulianpress.com
Fine Book Distributors & Retailers
Saint Julian Press, Inc. * Houston, TX 77008 * Ron Starbuck ~ Publisher-CEO
Email: ronstarbuck@saintjulianpress.com * Web: www.saintjulianpress.com
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As an Amazon Associate — Saint Julian Press, Inc. may earn funds from any qualifying purchases.
This arrangement does help to sustain the press and allow us to publish more books by more authors.