Still,
Ahrend Torrey
the heat does rise. Still,
the factories smolder. Still,
the oil rigs pump their black vomit
through our social veins. Still,
the lion is an erased sketch drawing—
the willow, a question.
If these years pass,
and oil rigs are no longer a thing,
if plastic, is no longer a thing,
I assure you have something,
as grim, as hopeless. Still,
the Mississippi rushes forward—
looking for a turn. Still,
you can write the word Maybe. Still,
the sun pulls herself
out of the dark lake, vibrant,
as if nothing, absolutely nothing,
can stop her—
Ahrend Torrey is the author of “Small Blue Harbor” published by the Poetry Box Select imprint. He lives in Louisiana with his husband Jonathan, their two terriers, and cat.