After the electrical storm
rattles the windows
and spikes the sky ocher
and I go out in the dark
to douse the garden hose
superfluously watering the roses
a shock
to be blinded
by moon
full in the face
in the closed corridor
at the side of my house
and it is clear to me
like cool white fire
the you I know
still glows
in dark somewhere
______________________________________________________________________
To read Paul Swenson’s bio and more of his poetry on WIZ, go here.
Photo by Bresson Thomas.
“douse”–nice.
LikeLike
Wow. I love those last three lines. Completely turns the poem on its head in a mysterious way. I want to know if this person described is going through some sort of mental instability, or if it’s about love struggling to survive, or what?
The imagery at the beginning is very stark and leaves an “aftershock” of sorts for me.
I feel like this poem isn’t quite finished! Is it just me???
LikeLike