Bolt
rolled up the sleeves
of my sky-blue shirt
as the birds retreated,
and the winds herded
the gray clouds —
a fluffy vainglorious sight,
the darkening like night.
electricity pulses the flesh.
eyes flash, awaiting my ride.
the quickening of my dream,
to catch a lightning bolt.
i’d climb its ladder,
the serrated edges of
its knife, like an empress
being carried to war,
but with child-like venture.
can you hear the classic
music trumpeting, the violin’s
bow — sharp against its strings?
stars, like hail, twinkle and sing
in my imagining. the bolt
releases me into the curio-clouds.
on my back, i float in compacted drops
of rain. the electric extravaganza
continues, and i await the cloudburst.
my boat of smoky-gray rocks me
gently, places me under a great oak,
where i see my name etched in a heart.
excelsior at the foot of the fine Spring Oak,
alongside a swiss army knife. i gather the curls,
placing them inside my pocket — a memory,
smiling as sun rays release, scent of cinnamon hair.
1/23/2018
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2018
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