Just Another Apocalypse
by Johanna May
There are flowers still
a leaf follows where a soft gust
leads it to rest atop a puddle.
Quiet permeates words,
violence is happening somewhere,
or deceit forms solid
The last of a colony retreats
to oblivion, a new strain
blossoms from this death.
Suspended, unaware, turning,
we are circling in this stasis,
the foundation turns from its axis,
the sun turns,
a peaceful hurricane in itself.
Yet it stops somewhere
our mind has yet to reach.
We imagine apocalypse
vividly seeped in horror,
what if this is it.
There are flowers still,
but this is it.
Posted on 01/08/2013
Copyright © 2022 Johanna May
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 01/12/13 at 12:18 AM|
Yes, what if this is it? As someone once said, the universe is violent place, with apocalypses happening all around...even here...the big one that wiped out the dinosaurs, but life somewhere goes on. PS: Welcome to Pathetic, Johanna; always happy to see a fellow Canuck join the ranks.
|Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 03/29/17 at 04:07 PM|
There are so many splendid images and scenarios gestating in the folds of this ode. I love the line that likens our Milky Way to a hurricane, a timid one, as is seen from quite a distance away.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 02/27/20 at 05:48 AM|
Congrats on POTD! Enjoyed this very much.
|Posted by Rob Littler on 09/02/20 at 11:17 AM|
Just Another Manic Monday
I hear my daughter say in a voice that is a question, "Why does she have a pocket lips?"