The Lost Country

Fall 2014 • Vol. 3, No. 1

issn 2326-5310 (online)

Last

By Jenny Dunbar

This work was published in the Fall 2014 issue of The Lost Country. You may purchase a copy of this issue from us or, if you prefer, from Amazon.

Where were you as the world tipped?
The city spewed
The last tree split,
The storm lashed
Took us in its hands,
Wrenched the chambers of my dying heart,
Burnt us up.
Did you recognise the faces at the end
In the long falling?
Did we share glances as we crossed the street,
Passed on the stair as the drum rolled and set us running,
Sat silently as the land turned its back on us
And no dog barked.
Smelling the canker in the air
Where new green shrank,
Sinking without a whisper.
A sigh
Took us with it as the wind stilled
And nothing stood.
Were you there?
Was it you, nonchalant on a side walk
In a mind’s weary eye?
A glimpse, a touch just as the lines closed
And shut the sun out.