Bursting Clouds Poem by Aron Heroux

Lifting over the horizon
the ground shrinks and falls
into a memory, that disappears
into mountains of white, where
silver winged seraphs soar
and silently burst
through the icy mist

Sound crackles electric as it
touches the glass, catching
the distant familiar buzz
of a native tongue that
calls us back

On slow currents we return
to the ground, now growing
and rising from a memory
that returns in the squealing of tires
that slow and stop
my breath, and turn the mountains
back to mere clouds
dissolving in the sunlight
that beats down on old pavement
black and burned
and my head
forever skyward turned