Comment on this article

Stopping in a Field While the Road Stretches Forever
by Christopher Caldwell

You fling your arms wide
as if you could grasp the sky between
bolts of lightning.
As if you could stretch from
horizon to horizon.
You want to fill the world.
You clap and thunder claps,
echoing blackly over the dark plains.
The scent of damp soil rises
as you spin; your hair color muted
against a roiling purple sky.

There's another flash.
A splatter of rain falls on your cheek—
you brush it off with your sleeve—
although it is worth more than pearls.


Return to:

[New] [Archives] [Join] [Contact Us] [Poetry in Motion] [Store] [Staff] [Guidelines]