Clouds Rise like Fish
by Tom Hennen
During July on the prairie
The pine tree stands alone on the main street
Of a disintegrating country town.
Its needles pump all day,
Still it cannot turn all the passing carbon monoxide
Into anything useful.
On its trunk ants are stuck in the resin.
From its top we can see the dark clouds
In the blue sky.
The island in the lake drifts even farther from shore.
The afternoon begins its insect hum.
We can tell a storm is coming
By looking into each other’s eyes.
“Clouds Rise like Fish” by Tom Hennen from Darkness Sticks to Everything. © Copper Canyon Press, 2013.
sketcher, reader, writer