5.31
blue lamp special light
windows of rain tonight
fall around rainbows
until skies let loose.
dark clouds, basic feuds
sun to wind to shearing
falls, hot cold frontings
spawn our swirl death dooms.
twister, roarer, heightened
restorer, when do we
know that we’ve pushed
too far.
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PoemsPerDay 
The moment the world ends. What a wonderful piece of poetry, and just somber enough. Maybe it’s just how I read it, but there seems something frantic about this poem, like grasping at reality but always letting it slip through the fingers. Don’t know if that makes sense, but that’s what this poem makes me feel like. Well done.