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Robin Holcomb
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Electrical Storm
Woman with
A child's dress on
Long hair
Drapes the arm
That cradles a daughter
Who would sleep
Blacks eyes open
And beating
But is afraid
Little cat
His hair set on end
Bolts from a sleeping coil
At a sound that you know
You have heard in your dreams
O, come
To the window my darling
Your heart repeats my own
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These long rooms are dark
The might not much brighter
From here we can watch the road
A small man is catching
The hot knife that flies
O, hush little baby, you're crying
And your tears taste like the rain
Woman with
A child's dress on
Long hair
Drapes the arm
That cradles a daughter
Who would sleep
Blacks eyes open
And beating
But is afraid
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