The Times Ahead

by Cliff Saunders

When the sun arrives in a flash,
I will go to the altar of hummingbirds

and fix it fast. When the clock
walks in a cage, I will avoid

looking in mirrors. A condor
will soar over an incinerator.

When a mountain catches fire,
I’ll sing to a busted wing

of great transition. I will cry
in a time of mourning

for a church spire that’s charred.
When the leader of the free world

eats the rain, I’ll stand on a sloop
on a cold day while awaiting

the wake of tragedy. I’ll push back
against a wall and make it higher.

I will fit into this city or leave it behind
like any other agent of chaos.