the sky is green

through the windshield, but not

tornado-green, despite the sirens. not

green-purple-yellow

bruises in the sky that make me feel like

there’s cloud caught in my teeth;

make me feel like the world got weak one day,

said it was over, and took a bite of its own flesh;

make me feel like the world is gonna

drown itself and me along with it.

so yeah, the sky is green, the sirens scream,

the alarm keeps ringing,

but through the windshield it’s sunset green,

not like a bruise, but a beginning.