forecast: clear and windy
data: conclusively inconclusive
in reference to explorations
Lucinda stands tall by the river
waders wet, muddy drops
decorating the grass
inside the sunshine,
artificial of course and no longer
present since the requisite
year has passed,
they found traces of
pure gold
leading Lucinda, test tube in hand
to the now gray and murky shores
forecast: windy and not so clear
data: consumption decreases clouds
in the minds and fields
water samples passed to gloved hands
Lucinda stands dripping at their doors
face a portrait of a face
all utility
naked, save grace
under covers, behind tented walls
her sister and the sisters of others wait
forecast: cloudy, chance for rain
data: gold in the light, pyrite in the water
holding their bags, hoisting their children
over barbed barriers and sinkholes
of sticky mud, Lucinda brings the women
in half, they are divided
ten swallow this, ten swallow that
then back over the drenched and dying land
forecast: rain
data: default toward hope
symptoms shift to improved
tented roofs hold
out the water and in the noise
smiles when the screaming stops
and echoes of splatters recede
Lucinda sits marking the graphs
a delicate script she will transport
swimming through the field they walked
forecast: cloudy
data: people precious
threads binding the earth
Lucinda brushes her sister’s hair
makes a path through the others
promising a return she knows
she might not make
clothes at her skin
puddles off her brow, Lucinda slips
data through slots for the now sleeping
to review
shakes hope off like distraction
trudges, new supplies in hand
back into the seeping darkness
CHRISTIE WILSON lives in Illinois. She is currently writing a collection of short prose. Her work appears in Atticus Review, apt, CHEAP POP, and New World Writing among other places. Visit her at www.christiewilson.net or follow her @5cdwilson.
Image: Martina Sarkadi Nagy via Pixabay
The Cabinet of Heed 