[lit-ideas] SUNDAY POEM
- From: "Mike Geary" <atlas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Sun, 31 May 2009 16:01:02 -0500
ON A SUNNY SUNDAY
If the fire in the sun
suddenly went out
we wouldn't know it
for eight and a half minutes.
Lovers would go on loving
teasing out pleasures from skin,
angry men would still smash their fists
into sheetrock only to redouble their fury,
hagglers would continue to
haggle down merchants
just one more dime,
mourners still to grieve,
readers go on racing to sentence's end
as the flow
of light and heat continued to embrace the earth
for eight and half minutes.
Then, of a sudden: darkness total,
followed by
rapidly growing cold.
Everyone standing then,
shivering in the dark,
trying to remember
where they last left the flashlight.
Hell, that's my life now,
only I don't know how many minutes
I've got left. Maybe only eight and a half.
Mike Geary
Memphis
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