by Gail White
Explosions in Kyiv heard live on air https://t.co/JGLvh4k8tX
— HectorM (@JaguarVer) February 24, 2022
All times are times of impending doom,
If one knows how to read the signs.
But old gods walk through the living room
And lay down nets and fishing lines.
Clutching the mesh, I begin to seek
Wonders and signs I’ve let slip by:
The fish impaled on the heron’s beak
Miraculous as the butterfly.
Between war and depression the end will come.
With plague and famine we take our chance.
But the cat moves her kittens one last time,
And the sandhill crane does a mating dance.
Gail White is a formalist poet and a contributing editor to Light. Her most recent collections are Asperity Street and Catechism. She lives in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, with her husband and cats.
