The day after was a warm sunny day,
the kind I had become accustomed to
during summers in California.
I was not prepared.
The clear blue sky
with its brilliant sun
was a terrible affront to my heart.
How could nature be so serene
while a storm raged within?
If the forecast obeyed my insides,
darkness would have surely swallowed the earth
like something out of Revelation.
But the sky would not open
to the glory of the second coming on that day.
The old world passed away
in the emergency room
the previous night
and I saw no signs of the new heaven.
# # #
Nicholas Froumis practices optometry in the Bay Area. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Right Hand Pointing, Blood and Thunder, Balloons Lit Journal, TWJ Magazine, The Society of Classical Poets Journal, Calvary Cross, and Touch: The Journal of Healing. He lives in San Jose, CA with his wife, novelist Stacy Froumis, and their daughter.
Photo credit: Marc Basso
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