Storm

Night squall raging,
black branches
batter every window
as the sky lashes
the city. Without devices,
all I can do is shelter in place
& wait the latest nightmare
out, find other sources
of power as I sit in the dark
save for a candle burning
for my mother writhing
in an ICU & for the world
to make it against all odds.
In every sense, I burn
in the unseen places, head
filling with smoke, each hour
lived in a dense haze.

Millions weather this
21st century unholy
Passover, homes
bereft & singed forever.
The unruly rich in charge
elect themselves
gods, maniacal &
merciless. Every warning
unheeded, no bona fide mark
of protection
this time, no choice
in the losses raining
almost everywhere.

Candlelight for two
is a date; I faintly
remember those.
Candlelight
alone
is a séance—
forgive me,
my dearly departed
for crying out
so often, for still needing you
so damn much.

– Kamila Aisha Moon

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