storm

the unbearable heat of the day mounted
the mountains, building up until it
broke out in thunder and ex
ploded in lightening. the sky was lit
as often as dark, I tried to keep score
in seconds: 1:1, 2:2, 1:3, 1:1, 3:1, 1:1...
It lit my father praying,
standing, kneeling, bowing,
kneeling, standing, praying,
it lit Balla next to me singing verses I never
knew he knew, head whipping, trancelike,
it lit the bodies that fast for it,
who were already starving,
it lit us all, suddenly,
exposing us, bent in the effort of blinking
dark out of the thing or people we most wanted
to see; it captured us staring at each
other. light, dark, flickering,
night
fighting day for control of the sky,
channel 1
no, channel 2,
channel 1, I said! and the tears flow...
the edges of thatch roofs mourning the most,
like children in the midst of their parents' divorce.
heads tilted to see if holy things might spill
as things are thrown across heaven, smashing,
cracking on the floor until
even the beating
of the ground turns into a
lullabye, the rest, a hovering dream.