Remembering the Lightning

In that flash of light

Our faces are shiny, silver

as the new silver dollars

in Grandpa’s cold pockets.

At the dark window

we breathe each other’s hair,

warm skin.

Blue,

female thighs

beneath the hems of our slips.

Silver light down the dark sky

stops the man we love

and fear between heartbeats.

It’s dark.

The place where he stood

is empty with night.

Behind the fences

nitrogen and oxygen

are splitting apart.

And we remember him

a blur of flesh

moving in starts across the slow field

his dark hand

brushing light

out of the fur of an enchanted horse.

The sky crackles like a gun

and shadows of thin trees

fall down to the ground.