|
Cotton Balls
The sky is covered in a fluffy
blanket of cotton ball clouds
stretching into the fading horizon.
If only I could jump onto the
bed of whiteness, it looks so
inviting from the ground. Fingers
reaching toward the open plane
above me. Thinking that if I
stretch every muscle in my arm
to its breaking point I might
be able to touch the untouchable.
As a little girl I believed God
lived up there. When thunder sounded
I hid beneath slivery foils of plastic.
My imagination ran with the idea
that whoever was making the noise
was livid. Relating it to the loud
sounds of my parents arguing, I
could hear them through the floors.
The rumbling of the torrid heavens
struck my heart with surprise.
I despised how unpredictable it was
and swore that the lightning could
jump through the window and kill me
if I stared at it for too long.
Only when the rolling thunder
had traveled to the farthest ends
of the sky did I emerge. Like a
hermit peeking out of its shell.
Cool relief washes over me,
the grumbling of an angry storm
passes with the appearance of
sunlight parting persistent darkness.
|
