Corners

The engines are chilled making the
needles stand still and the starter struggle
to ignite the mist of fuel coming from the
source. I look out the window and I see
goats in the field with shards of ice hanging
down from their long fur. They try to huddle
together but wined up stabbing each other
and quickly separate to their own corners
where they can’t see each other’s faces.
The distant lights that illuminate the tops of
radio towers and silos all start going out at once
and the points of interest that once filled my view
are now just empty patches of night.
It’s getting to the point where we’re going to
have to start burning things. At least that’s
what they’re telling us over the radio and through
the speakers that echo across empty shopping
malls. How many more chances at a summer are
we going to get before our luck runs out?
It’s easy to take for granted the sunlight and
warmth when there’s too much of it to go around,
but harder to find it when it’s lost.

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