Heath Brougher York, PA Poet

Enormous Hazel Clouds

Twelve seconds from Kill-Devil Hill

there is a crash-down brooming loose dirt

into proms of dust. Leakage and foil

melded by the high gloss of science,

the disorientation takes to the air,

weaving, turning, losing face

to the smooth white. New rush,

the horizontal surface of disquieting

motions morphing corners. Now,

what star to eat? What ledge to jump from?

remain to be figured. Groundswells, never touched,

for the metal shine of wax and polish

whipping through the breeze

the trust and leap, the flaws

and, jealous, scabbed bodies pushing

a rare perfection right off the cliff.


Heath Brougher lives in York, PA and has a book of two poems forthcoming with Green Panda Press.


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