by Brian Fanelli
For weeks now, rain,
and after a crack of sunlight,
a sharpened wind bends blades of grass,
while trees sway beneath a moody sky.
On TV, they talk Syria, flash images—
civilians crouched on streets, their clothes
bloody and torn, their skin charred, chemical-burned,
all of this under a blue, summer-like sky.
All of this, and I think of lilacs I planted,
how their purple lips kiss cool air,
drink more water and more,
sucking down what’s needed to live.
I am grateful for their brightness,
that they have bloomed strong and exist.
Brian Fanelli’s latest poetry collection is Waiting for the Dead to Speak (NYQ Books), winner of the 2017 Devil’s Kitchen Poetry Prize. His writing has been published in the Los Angeles Times, World Literature Today, The Paterson Literary Review, and elsewhere. He teaches at Lackawanna College in Scranton, Pennsylvania. .