“Tomorrow Night, Shake Me”
from “Tomorrow Night, Shake Me”
The world was at its end again.
The houses all wore hats of fire.
We couldn’t find each other.
Wolves pawed clouds,
crows tunneled. Last grabbed objects,
instantly regretted, dropped,
though one child still clutched a feather
and a few things stayed unreasonably in place—
gravestones, oranges, beds.
Most of us tongued seeds, loved strangers.
Why not? Soon it would be noon forever.
We couldn’t find each other.
The great toleration was finished.
The world rushed into feather, then wind.
Slate‘s Poetry Podcast: http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/poem/2013/05/_tomorrow_night_shake_me_by_terri_witek.html
Terri Witek’s most recent book of poems is Exit Island. She holds the Sullivan Chair in creative writing at Stetson University.