brick

There was a question 

posed I suppose by

the words’ weight and

the way they stack the deck,

by the side of the phrasing,

something in the degree

the slope takes to mitigate 

descent. Suppose it took 

a sky that shade of blue,

the sweat and stick of

heat and shimmer,

the obliteration of the atmosphere 

in these tragic captions.

There was something said

again and again, ritual 

prophecy and prayer,

a warning left behind by the wind,

that dry that seizes 

the breath in the breach,

the ask worked from want,

an answer left like a brick

chocking the tire in the drive, 

waiting for the wheel to turn.