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Lexington Poetry Month
article by
Jennifer Barricklow

The dream starts with tornadoes,
dozens of them descending
at the same time, all around,
from a sky the color of a faded
black eye. It always begins
like this, a shifting landscape
of rage without refuge or
escape that doesn’t end
until I wake up.

3 responses to “Unresolved”

  1. mtpoet says:

    It’s good that you wake up. Being is a tornado, in a house that was demolished, gave me a new perspective on life.

  2. Melva Sue Priddy says:

    from a sky the color of a faded
    black eye

    Strong image.

  3. Kathleen Gregg says:

    I, too, love the “faded black eye” image. I used to dream about tornadoes. They were terrifying dreams!

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