Love Poem: Out of the West
Jason Knight Avatar
Written by: Jason Knight

Out of the West

The thunder had shoved from sleep
What would the soul’s anchor seem:
So deep and falling men’s fears are
When eyes no buoyancy provide.

The trees, conspiratorially hissing,
Exhorted, it seemed, the angry
Masses of air that I knew now the
Storm that was early rumored in wind.

The heavy slugs of rain tore
Open the flesh of the ground and
Mud ran everywhere, and me, 
In some hotel room, by kisses
	Gunned down.

Yes, I had seen all this early
In dark battalions westward 
Mounting who had become so 
Long impending, familiar, death
	Grew beautiful. 

These things come out of 
The West, where late it becomes
So red, so full, that the onset
Of night is full-well assumed,
	Received courteously.