A huge hawk flew across my mind.
The accident flung every detail
aside—how much yogurt to buy—
I was writing a grocery list
when the call came—
stars thrown into a sky so black
I can’t even see the dull light
points of your life anymore.
My mind fell limp, like
watching someone drown
when I can’t swim a lick,
or plunging into a cave
with bats, moon and sun
obliterated all at once.
The hawk drags away words—
leaves nothing to say.
Originally published in Young Raven's Review