Thunder Voices

Cindy Bousquet Harris

 Let’s use our rainforest
 voices as we sinew and vine
 through kiwi colors,
 listen to macaques, plantain squirrels
 scuffle in the canopy
 before the flash, the crack,
 shreds leaves
 to purple and blue.

   I will shake you into bold
   and bug-eyed patterns
   scribbled on white-backed sky.

What about ribcage fronds,
the quiet pool,
that rests in plum shade?

  Slice them a pie they won’t forget,
  shell of indigo
  tumbling past centipedes –
  and drown out
  those screeching mynas.

Only for a moment.

 Even so.

  Once, I dreamt I was a mandolin
  above the storm.

%d bloggers like this: