Saturday, September 29, 2012

A Poem by Kristin Roahrig


Thunder rumbles sweetly
A familiar grumble like the sound of an empty beat
A comfort, knowing the familiar signs
that can bring a harshness or a cure, depending on the timing
to lull me into a sleep
One where my eyes close while I rest as the thunder weeps
The water runs- formed from our sweat
The sky, already changed to gray blends with the clouds, neither able to be seen
They wrap around me- invisible- letting me dream
A sleep that never let me gain rest

Soon enough the storm passes, leaving behind a solitude
Leaving a musky sun in it’s wake that changes the leaves to a languid green
Like the tone of my own body in the glare of dimmed lights
I rub my hands down the newly shaved legs beside me,
skin a greenish tinge that dims against the dark covers crumpled up beside us
Laying quietly after the thunder
After the rumbles that sweetly took the sky, leaving all rest sundered
Kristin Roahrig's poetry and stories have appeared in local and regional publications. Her poem, "Dance of the Drums" won the Melba Geoffrey Memorial Poetry contest in 2010. She is also the author of several plays and lives in Indiana.

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