Finger Snap
Where is the heat when life seems so gray?
In birdsong? In light? My feet must take flight.
Can I stretch out my hands and touch the sun?
Where is it? Where is it? Why doesn’t anyone care
when mocking and laughter fill the air…and they say,
“I like him” “I trust him” — by what standards?
And she too throws back her head of hair.
Doesn’t anyone understand that the eyes grow dark,
the storm sits in the sky like a demonic throne
not exacting its downpour or vortex calamity…yet.
It waits for the right time to strike, like a cobra…
its bite. Are you ready for it? It happens so quickly
it will not be caught on camera. And life could become
colder and colder, just like that…at a finger snap.
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