PICKINGS
Poetry from NHI publications
THUNDER ON THE LEFT |
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The sky holds down the heat, the air weighted and all the fields to the sea still. Each step makes the sea more distant like the space growing between us. A cat in the shade not moving, a folded fritillary hangs from a blade of grass. "Shall we go back?" I ask. No answer. then lightning one two three, crash. Again two flashes thunder bawling between the hills. Rain gobs down each spot making its print on the tar. At the fourth flash we turn but it is too late. Racing back your hand ignores my outstretched palm and when you reach our lane you do not wait but run into the house taking the storm with you. |
PATRICIA BISHOP |
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