The Light

We waited, but it never came. So we stopped looking out the window, didn’t mention it in prayers. Rain picked up at the Old Testament pace. Cars flooded. Bridges unhinged. Elders pushed sacrifice. We defaced idols, dismembered queers, ate fungus until the ground washed away. Foundations sank. We slept in trees, roasted squirrels on roofs. Soon there was no more spark. Bark melted off trees. They toppled over, roots waved goodbye in murky graves. Those who could rowed their way to Utah. Atop the Cliffs of Navaho a child begged: Before we go, shine as if we once deserved you.

 

Jodi Barnes writes poetry and short stories. Her work has been recognized by Glimmer Train, Press 53, and various magazines and journals. One of her stories is currently listed on wigleaf‘s top 50.

3 Responses to “The Light”

  1. I dunno if I get it, but I really like it!

  2. albert says:

    First off, tell Caty-Scarlett it’s “are” no words, “is” no words.

    Intriguing piece of writing. Taps into the imagination from word one to word 100.

  3. Caty-Scarlett Coleman says:

    There is no words for this. Truly, a beautiful job!

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