From Problems and Miracles by Ryan Davis:
A H O S P I T A L
I N A
S M A L L T O W N
the sky, at all hours, is a hospital
in a small town
in which birth is so generously given
on the same pale-patterned sheets and spread
as a diagnosis,
and if one were to look long enough,
a cure.
a winded cloud with a bulging stomach
breathing heavily with clenched fists
cursing at an ocean that is nowhere to be found
and it is that very moment
before the rain falls to the soil
like the weak-hearted at war
for which every song was ever written
and every conversation sounds like it belongs
to something bigger
like a movie script
and we are all just waiting for applause.
so take a bow and find some shelter.
this one’s going to be a doozie.