Augustus C. Grohmann

NIGHT POEM #3

The moths chewed through the starlit upholstery of night
and left thunderstorm holes in the August sky:
Needless to say, it was another Virginia summer.
You and I in the butter yellow living room, me half naked
and half-saying how much I like to be caught in storms,
you half listening, half watching as the lightning
white dog shakes in his crate. Everyone in these suburbs
are waiting, either because they’ll sleep perfectly tonight
or terribly, depending on the way that they are.
The shapes of these winds,
the shapes of these branches
that bay at the window—
how beautiful we might have found it all
had we not set down our home here.

AUGUSTUS C. GROHMANN is a multi-genre writer and the recipient of an MFA from Hollins University in Roanoke, Virginia. Please explore their other publications at Roi Faineant and Dreginald.