By Annwyn
Mahoney
-
and I’m back at
the farm, watching wall clouds
on glowing
grass.
I’m animated
with static, tingling all over from the power of the fast-approaching storm.
Spring peepers sing
and hide in the
pool ladder. The hackberry trees
not yet too old
and hollow. They’re comforting,
these
reminders
that enough of
this will remain to go on, and on
after the
living things cease. I dream of the abiotic future. With flashes of lightning,
the storm absolves my grief
About the Author
Annwyn Mahoney is a visiting student with 2 degrees from ICC in environmental science and medical laboratory technology. Annwyn has placed in 4 ICC writing contests. She writes free verse poetry with a compulsion to give voice to feelings and experiences not easily articulated. She lives in Peoria with her partner and their dog, 3 cats, 4 fish tanks, hamster, leopard gecko, and hermit crabs.