Above the Dome
Walking home at noon
dark clouds unload,
the vale of tears creating pools
to be stepped around with care.
I push the silver button to launch
a spring-loaded shelter,
black dome blooming overhead
full circle, like the night sky.
Above the black,
in outer space,
the seagulls loft and wheel
invisible but heard,
screeing to each other—
the joy of unfettered flight.
William Ross is a Canadian writer and visual artist living in Toronto. His poems have appeared in Rattle, The New Quarterly, Humana Obscura, New Note Poetry, Cathexis Northwest Press, Topical Poetry, Heavy Feather Review,*82 Review, and Alluvium. Recent work is forthcoming in Bindweed Magazine and Anti-Heroin Chic.
Amethyst Review 