Chris Tusa
   
 

The Sky is Falling

The sky is falling.
And Henny Penny is nowhere to be found.

There is no bright blue cartoon sky,
no pop-up green grass.

Only a grey horizon with a single black cloud
drifting like a hole in the sky.

Minutes later, I watch rain disappear from the radar,
watch the sun blink through the clouds.

And I feel like some dumb chicken,
panic knocking against my purple chicken heart,

the seed of some silly fear
planted deep in my tiny bird brain.

Chris Tusa

Site Designed and Hosted by Hurricom Interactive