Downed
A thundering spacecraft arriving out of nowhere,
a crashing, crushing presence
hurled downward until lamps blink, doors tremble
and roof shudders.
I count seconds into an electric darkness.
The next boom is distant, miles away,
just weather, not the menace
of an alien attack.
Then the next mighty boom
sounds like a salvo from a battleship.
A fizzing pause, a weak flapping, a scrabble,
as if a stricken angel had been downed.
Will a rescue mission be mounted,
some frontline extraction?
No wait...just a thunderstorm.
In the daylight will I find a few wing feathers
some mangled pigeon parts,
relics that must be ferried to the trashcan
under the watchful eyes of mourning doves?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
