After the Towers Collapsed
I was outside talking to the trees,
large maples still green in their taffeta.
I wanted to know why everything deemed
profound always seemed so very dark.
I don’t want to be a character in that book,
I said.
Wind flowed like a river current
in the leaves, a soft burble of sound,
the conversation ordinary, even a bit dull,
but for the way sunlight diced the leaves
with hints of early autumn ochre and mustard
in the lime and moss and avocado green.
Let me vanish
again in that mysterious window, this time
with complete abandon. Like stained glass
in an old cathedral. For a brief, pregnant
moment, there was nothing left to fear.
Doug Talley has MFA and BFA degrees in creative writing and a JD degree. He has authored two poetry collections, The Angel Voice of Irony (Morris Publishing) and Adam’s Dream (Parables Publishing). A Pushcart nominee, his poems have appeared in the American Scholar, Tupelo Quarterly, Tampa Review, Christianity & Literature, and other journals. As a lawyer, he has worked to recover Jewish assets confiscated by Nazis during World War II. Presently, he leads a writers’ workshop for inmates in a women’s prison.
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