Sunday, January 10, 2010

by Nathan Ferraro

.A poem called lightning. Asjhjfhdj.

When it hits, you hear thunder and that's it.
Just a flash before you fall. It burns you up and you want nothing
else at all.
Now I find myself walking in the rain,
my umbrella to the sky, trying to retrace all the steps when it
first came.
Looking down, I see holes burned in the ground and
people fallen to their knees, they’re writing poems about the
refuse left to see.
There's a house and its split right down the
seam, I climb up to be in reach and as the clouds roll in, its
here I fall asleep.
I dream lightning will strike me twice.
And make my heart a sacrifice. Oh I'll wait out, through every
storm, for it to come - to love someone - how I loved her.