October Rush

By Matthew Corsi

Dark skies

A survival rate does not exist this morning.
The wind levies her threat

my God, what a mess.
A coral reef of death swarms the sky,

veins entwined, a single unit of red plush
creates a landscape of rush.

Everywhere, everywhere, it becomes
the unit of fatigue.

Life is Done for.

Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing, SNHU Student