Shelter

raindrops on wire-1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

©2015 by Jack A. Urquhart
(for Raymond)

Purple thunder heralds the storm.
At dusk, the rains begin.
Outside my window a necklace of liquid pearls—
strung from telephone line—
captures the last iridescence of day.
I hear a mourning dove fluster and take flight;
her cry is heathery, a fluttering gray.
At my desk, I search for words.
Is there a better likeness of longing?
In the next room, I hear you speak.
Once, then again softly
you call my name
and I rise
To seek shelter

About jaurquhart

Jack Andrew Urquhart was born in the American South. Following undergraduate work at the University of Florida, Gainesville, he taught in Florida's public schools. He earned a Master of Arts degree in English, Creative Writing, from the University of Colorado at Boulder, where he was the winner of the Harcourt Brace Jovanovich Award for Fiction (1991). His work has appeared online at Clapboard House Literary Journal, Crazyhorse Literary Journal, and Standards: The International Journal of Multicultural Studies. He is the author of So They Say, a collection of self-contained, inter-connected stories and the short story, They Say You Can Stop Yourself Breathing. Formerly a writing instructor at the University of Colorado’s Writing Program, Mr. Urquhart was, until 2010, a senior analyst for the Judicial Branch of California. He resides in Washington State.
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1 Response to Shelter

  1. TermiteWriter says:

    Beautiful, beautiful, as always! I love the color imagery – purple thunder, heathery gray call of the dove.

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