a world held in place by a million falling threads.
In the balance, the fur on the coyote’s belly,
worn as leather but marked with a lifetime of fights,
and the lake hungry for new stories to swim with the old.
Lightning angles and wishbones, branches into branches
that mimic what grows or tunnels below.
Scenery unrolls quick-silver–expanses of land
or water, sky and darkness–in the flash that lights up
all the lines of roads and clouds, cedars and shorelines,
before sealing all back together in shifting hues of night.
What seems like the end, again a beginning.
What can’t be said, suddenly pouring down everywhere.
~ Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg, reprinted from Chasing Weather: Tornadoes, Tempests, and Thunderous Skies in Word and Image by Stephen Locke & Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg.
Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg is the third poet laureate of Kansas, author of 19 books, and founder of Transformative Language Arts at Goddard College, where she teaches.
Double Trouble for Poetry Month: During Poetry Month, we are featuring a poem weekly from each of Kansas’s poets laureate in addition to our weekly poems.