Expiration Date

these days pass so quietly
with the wind, the rain, and slush
and here we stay so silently
every word hushed

that vengeful breeze
the antithesis of all
marches with grace
shouts with care

the enlightened rain
personified as a crying woman
holds her sobs at bay
as much as she can

the thick slush,
a synechdoche of what remains
of father winter's wrath 
and kindness

the oft-written of weather
can never be described
too much for it
to seem boring.

we'll stay.
humanity.
until it's all gone
due to us.

or we will 
end ourselves 
and everything else, too
before the earth expires.

Abriatis

NY

YWP Alumni

More by Abriatis

  • i am me.

    it's 12am on nine-eleven-twenty-twenty.
    my name is rowan, and i am eighteen.
    i have struggled. i have cried. i did not think i'd make it this far.
    i did not think i'd do half the things i have.
  • nine-eleven

    to think that i will be a legal adult tomorrow.
    i could vote. i could buy fish at petsmart.
    i could apply to places like aldi's and tractor supply.

    my birthday, for me, has always been tinged with sadness.
  • placidity

    i watch the numbers tick up.
    i read the headlines.
    suny oneonta shuts down for the semester -
    six hundred cases.

    i go outside.
    i see the masks, worn properly or not.
    the spraying of hand sanitizer,