We Shattered Our Faith in the Lightning

by Renwick Berchild

From this angle, you say, the Holy Ghost
looks like an ibex, sauntering its way down the slope,
folding paper, in its coal hooves,
slitting the white fish belly
of the mist.

Storm veined, the route of heaven
stepping across the sky; I’ve never lied to hurt you,
just to entwine
the lightning.

The stacks of books are swaying, the raven curtain
of your hair is fraying. We are older,
and searching our insides
for horses.
We’ve hung up our lanterns.
We’ve said our grayed solaces to the night.

From this angle, you say, my shaking hand
looks like a maple leaf, frozen on the branch by the winter;
you always say I never let go.
You always say I never let go.

Restring your guitar, tune
your piano, for the melodious arc of us
is coming to a close.

I’m going to give you,
what you want. I’m going to snuff the lit matchstick.
I’m going to swallow.
No wolf will ever come to your door again.

Girl, I’ve never lied to you.
I’ll ask of you only one last thing:
Never love me again. Write no poems of me, sing
no songs.

You say I never let go. For you,

I’ll prove you wrong.


2 Comments to “We Shattered Our Faith in the Lightning”

  1. Interesting story. Can’t help but to feel sad at the last lines!

If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

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 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: