The Sky Secedes
We sought to golemise the cumuli, to salve
the drought-mazed earth; but they spat out
the lightning-words we placed upon their tongues.
Now anvil-heads full of revolution, unshed rain meet
in a sky turned republic. The winds braid
in caucus. We guess a manifesto
from cloud-shadows, stilled weathervanes:
hope only that the storms speak soft, when
the swollen sun breathes out at last.
Mat Joiner is a writer and poet living near Birmingham, England. Their work has appeared in the likes of Not One Of Us, Lackington's, and Strange Horizons. You can find them on Twitter as @damsonfox.