Flock of Morose
flock grows gothic
quickly ravaged by
yolky spew, zooming at
The galaxies awakened hanging hopelessly
No longer tethered to the sparkling heavens
But instead, a torn black curtain with lights
Barely flickering, the air hot, toxic and dead.
After evil shot like a meteor through space
The atmosphere was a dank, murky swamp
Cluttered, bleak with lifeless masses of rock,
Debris, splattered elements and inert gas.
The cabal of malachite creatures was small but mighty, grotesquely scaly
With bat-like wings cloaked in coarse hair, and piercing ultra-violet eyes
We stood transfixed, amazed, and deeply horrified at the traffic of aliens
As they stomped with tiny paws but loud precision across the dusty terrain
Occasionally a wing, the color of midnight, would swiftly clutch and crush
One tiny, shivering gray beetle-back prey in their jagged, jaundiced jaws
Until they reached their waiting ship, round glass, like polished dolomite
Swirly vivid colors like a marble, they ascended into the little door single file
Lifting off with a roar and a poof, and a little dent and tiny tracks left in the sand.
She whispered aloud
Over in bed
Dying without breath.
About the Poet
Kathleen A. Lawrence has had poems published in Rattle (Poets Respond), Star*Line, Eye to the Telescope, Scryptic, Silver Birch Press, haikuniverse, Silver Blade Magazine, The Wild Word magazine (Germany), Altered Reality Magazine, Undertow Tanka Review, New Verse News, and Proud to Be: Writing by American Warriors, among others. Recently her poem, “Just Rosie” was nominated for a 2017 Pushcart Prize and a 2018 Rhysling Award. Her poem “Vampirette” was also nominated for a Rhysling Award.