Ash In My Lungs
There was a place in a dark ring of trees.
We stood near a pool black and flat as the night.
The phosphorous moon played bright on the water
while night birds dead-traced the field mice
scampering among the bones of ancient fallen oaks.
The air smelled of damp Manzanita
like many of my secret places do.
I brought you here to show you
this fragile wild of my soul,
the dark things that connect us.
Laughing, you picked up a stone and tossed it
nonchalantly; shattered the pool like cheap glass.
I covered my ears at the sound
as the moon fell to earth and exploded.
When I opened my eyes and stopped screaming
all the forest lay flattened and gray,
and the ash in my lungs
was my heart.
Bio: Christopher Vera is fascinated by three pillars of our universe: the natural, unnatural and the supernatural. He explore these elements through poetry and fiction. His work has appeared in Ship of Fools, Mobius, Heliotrope, Abyss & Apex, miller's pond, and the Magee Park Poet’s Anthology. He can be found at christophervera.com.