Categories
Poetry

After a Storm

The sky is television gray today.
City streets are slick and shiny;
buildings drenched with soot coughed from clouds.

The sky is television gray today.
City streets are slick and shiny;
buildings drenched with soot coughed from clouds.
No rainbows break the drudge today; instead
I found one fetal,
dying
splashed in black puddles inside
this parking garage.
The sky is television gray today; halogen
light throws skylines into harsh black and white
relief.
Another rerun.

By Timothy Hankins

A theologian, pastor, and writer who seeks to teach and live the fullness of the ancient Christian faith. Anglican in a Wesleyan way (read: Methodist).