Cyclone
The spinning cyclone spoiled the sky
when Macy was somewhere
between five and six;
it tore open the horizon
like clumsy fingers
to tissue paper,
and in that heartbeat
she fell on the cusp
of twenty-seven,
her hands pressed against the wall,
the smooth stone of the wall;
there, where the edges
crumbled her prayers
are pushed in
the way a wedge
spoils wood;
it is the way of Kansas
to disappear and leave the wall;
it is the way of all things
to rot and leave a wall;
it is the way of tears and ashes
and stone and paper
laid even at the wall.
![[caedmonscall.net]](http://rmfo-blogs.com/images/ccneticon.jpg "The quasi-official fan site of Caedmon’s Call.")
![[derekwebb.net]](http://rmfo-blogs.com/images/dwneticon.jpg "The official fan site of Derek Webb.")
![[rmfo-blogs.com]](http://rmfo-blogs.com/images/rmfoblog.png "About the [rmfo-blogs] service.")
Wonderful… Very powerful… So now you have to return the favor. Pick someone off the list of poets at poetisphere (where I found you) and assign them a first line and let them know!).
October 30th, 2005 at 1:03 amAlright then, I’ll pass the torch to Andrew… considering I’ve been reading his poetry for a while.
dan
October 30th, 2005 at 1:21 am[...] “The spinning cyclone spoiled the sky” — Daniel of Finally Getting Somewhere [...]
November 2nd, 2005 at 10:04 pm