Kenneth Pobo

Waiting For It

Darkness skins its knees— suddenly there’s morning. The sun prods with gold pitchforks.

Raylene walks out into the light waiting for a revelation, a bus scheduled to arrive, but it never does. A black butterfly, blue on the bottom of both wings, grabs a sunflower. This is the moment!

It flies away. A cloud rolls up torn sleeves and glowers.