Rayleigh Scattering

by E.G. Cunningham

End of the year gray. Anchors
Where balloons should be, or: 
Could peace wait on the outer
Bank of sane. How in the holiday
Buzz to say nothing for clear, that is:

Give me back remembering,
Its attendant costumed sting.

The portraiture made overkill
By rain. No incoming. The quantum
State the same. The slide to black,
The self-quilled quell to love
The heartburn sun, its citrus sky. 
If only.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: