Thunder (Day 3)

If it were up to me, I’d tell everyone about you.

I’d tell them about you the same way I lay out a wrinkled dress for ironing. I would unfold you and lie you flat and point to the patterns and tell them why each color shines.

If I were alone I’d run my hand softly over your soft fabric. While I thought of the sweet sacrid days in the summer. The scent of your cotton would hail simpler times.

But you are not something I could lie out flat, you are far too much cloth and too wrinkly to iron. Your patterns are too intricate to explain to someone — who doesn’t love you as I have.

Mans prophets and youth pastors have all attempted to speak

and lay out what you say in Thunder.

Much less in Cotton effigies worn on warm days to inspire breath.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s