In a silent darkness

A beam of light touches God’s hands. The cat snores in
the corner. Single gunshot rings out in a silent darkness, like a proclamation.
Unseen fingers turn
crisp pages,
commonplace words
swirl in brisk celebratory winds like confetti. Days
are crossed out on calendars, names struck
from lists. Foggy and disembodied horns call
to each other, and horses whipped in a dream
mercilessly
about their meek eyes trample a man. Somewhere a
pile of clothes sit unfolded and never worn again. Locks grasp
desperately for purchase from doors
swinging open. Drunks sway home, and floorboards creak. Old
and unopened letters peek out from
broken drawers and wardrobes left out
in the rain, in the night, below pale beams that touch God’s hands
and beneath the soggy stars.

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About allisunknown

26 year-old student, tutor, and writer. Write for http://www.spectrumculture.com. Also nascent pedestrian advocate. Twitter handles: twitter.com/joeclinkenbeard twitter.com/PedInPDX
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