When night flows thick as melting licorice
over the lava lamp, liquid sealing
tight every glimpse of light. When earth’s last ice
dries to dust, sending each human reeling
with parched mouth. When lust and love no longer
scream out on stained beds, now bare as deserts.
When air dissolves, refusing the lung, her
song choked, forsaking our ears. When death flirts
with each cell, whispering for one last dance.
I’ll still search deep into psychic archives
I’ve filed for you. Grasp each smile, passing glance,
gracious touch. Each secret syllable lives
there. Each sacred image caresses me
as I lie here lost beside the lone tree.
Roger Armbrust
March 29, 2016
