Michelle Chen

AFTER A STORM

 

Torn drumskin,

pride battered out

by thundering gusts,

draped on

a gnarled elm branch,

tracing cracks in the parchment

of dusk.

 

Stampeding winds

left a pockmarked moonscape of

overgrown lawns.

Premature earth

churned up raw, studded

with breadcrusts.

 

 

 

 

[....]

 

Michelle Chen

Overturned baby stroller

breaching on a powerline.

Tatters of

moth-eaten sweaters

and yesterday's mail

flutter on

patio chair skeletons—

prayer flags

for the insurance man.

 

Disruptured civilization

transfigured into

an infant's mobile,

dangling memory scraps

over a cradle of ruins.

 

Mesmerized, we start

to recollect

and contemplate

how hard

to try standing.