YEAR OF THE CYCLONE
It is said that what follows cannot be proven.
“Like a barn came up and smack smacked me”
Or disproven. They called it
year of the cyclone. Year of the unmistakable
red wolves of vortex.
Hook echo an unmistakable
They declared it the year of life, which, considering all the deaths
The buzzards, some chartreuse, some with new “green” condos.
The buzzards came resurrecting their wealth.
Resurrecting that arcane practice
of becoming whatever they thought they were worth.
It was remarkable.
The town came back bearing the mark of a saber.
A motion, as in a sweep-sweep, only broken by its trigger.
Or swollen mitts of tigers.
Or clothes, with dancing lit
dancing second only to the pollen.
Lillian-Yvonne Bertram‘s first book, But a Storm is Blowing from Paradise (Red Hen Press), was chosen by Claudia Rankine as winner of the 2010 Benjamin Saltman Award. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals, among them Harvard Review, Indiana Review, Mid-American Review, Subtropics, Narrative Magazine, Gulf Coast, jubilat, and others. She can be found at www.lillianbertram.com.