Issue 5
Planet Shift

Planet Shift

No one walks here  

this new season, none 

 

fall down on floorboards,  

knees remembering 

 

tall trees at morning’s end,  

warmth in summer. 

 

No lightning cuts sky,  

no veins bleed riverbeds. 

 

Twigs on dead trees  

have ceased speaking. 

 

Sun too has fled, and  

light among branches. 

 

Even winter, time of sleeping  

flowers, is finished.