What Remains of the Day
I don’t want to be here, curled in ice and snow, dried out
for future generations to find, a horrifying discovery
of some soul-seeking hiker, a tragic story to play out
in museums for wide-eyed children. I don’t want
to be found here, like this, a mouse in a clump
of dried mud and stiff grass, huddled in a concrete
cistern, pressed against a real door in a false wall
waiting out a storm that won’t end in time, eyes closed tight
against a maelstrom of glittering sparks just outside
the ghastly hue of burning buildings and rolling fog
the thunder of gunpowder exploding in showers of metal
and clay, sharp bits of glass and fire.
Holly Day’s writing has recently appeared in The NoSleep podcast, Talking River, and New Plains Review, and her published books include Music Theory for Dummies and Music Composition for Dummies. She currently teaches classes at The Loft Literary Center in Minnesota, Hugo House in Washington, and the Indiana Writers Center. She writes from Minneapolis.
Pulsebeat Poetry Journal 