Morgan Michaels

Meltdown - Poem by Morgan Michaels

In Fahrenheit, it's forty, now,
and in the relative heat-wave
under clouds of broken wonder
the storm's fluid reductions
run down the sluices of multiple drains
like victims of a sacrifice
singing as they go
'shugl a, shuga'

more sound than drown;

In tin-whistle medley
like the peepers of Spring,
they gurgle, sing
and quickly pass away,
while, high above the street
the sun, a traveling man,
shedding far more light than heat
at time and a half
sits on a cat-walk
dangling his feet
and, leaving thumb-prints everywhere,
shines with vanishing return.

The drain-refrain, if you please,
you can hear it if you listen
if you listen you can hear it
if you listen, you will
'shugla, shuga'

Topic(s) of this poem: love

Comments about Meltdown by Morgan Michaels

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Poem Edited: Thursday, January 28, 2016

[Report Error]