The 30th of June
by Julio Chapluzki
tantalizing clouds
hold out hope of rain;
perhaps there will be fireworks.
tantalizing clouds
hold out hope of rain;
perhaps there will be fireworks.
these days
we live in a continuum of rain
beneath infinite clouds
our heads bowed
we keep our eyes clear
to see what–
the ground?
i marked the
inauguration with
feelings of trepidation
let’s remember that
“change” is not a magic
word made of sparkles
and dust, rather one
spelled with sleepless
nights, burning words,
and blood
let’s remember that
the “Dream” is not
a finish line to be
crossed, rather a reality
we must construct
first in our minds and in
our lives
and let’s remember that
our leaders cannot be God
sweeping down from the clouds
(or the White House) to pluck
you from your own troubles.
dealing with the putrid rain
water on my pant cuffs
twelve noon might as well be dusk
here where only the clouds shine
the clarity of
the contrasting twilight
as
the lightning strikes
behind
the city’s skyline
makes me wish
we were that
couple handinhand
quickly crossing
beneath clouds stacked
orange
grey
black.
