how rain
laughs
has autumn rain
ever devoured them,
these pestilent halfwits,
who gaze with a city craze
across mountains
quilted in pine?
have they ever felt
a chill nibble their nerves,
ovationed by bumps
along their skin,
pale from living
in a conditioned summer?
people irritate me
whose lives coincide
with faded paper;
people irritate me
who cannot fathom
how rain laughs
ne’er-do-well
thought
glitter in the mind,
ne’er-do-well thought,
saunter through a summer
pouring with petunia laments
& catch my falling conscience
in a jaded tendril of grass
between thumb and forefinger,
twisting backwards and forwards
unlike time, whose one-way-street
steals strings from my violin heart
ill-equipped on evenings
of symphonic sorrow
glitter, glitter—
my hours know only
their passing
the moon
the moon doesn’t know Hiroshima,
mushroom cloud rooted in death
and cries still vibrating
through a blueberry’s wilting core;
the moon doesn’t know poverty,
on propaganda-littered street corners
where a politician’s golden lies
fades into gutter-worn truth;
the moon only knows silence,
how celestial nothing spans eons,
while a species, longing for life,
leaves footprints for weeping stars
Since August of 2013, H. Holt has been published by various
magazines and blogs. She has recently been accepted by Negative Capability
Press, who will be including her in their Anthology of Georgia Poetry in 2015.
She lives in the luscious mountains of North Georgia, where she spends her time
helping students achieve their dreams of higher education.
