Residual Atmosphere by Jonathan Hine

i walked past strange
shadowded yards
down city lanes
up the stairs to
obtain my hidden bag
a smoldering blaze of
orange & red spread
across the horizon
unearthly tints shone
through the window
with long purple curtains
to the side
the faint glow
illuminating & radiating from
the permutations & combinations
of variously enumerated configurations
flickered, then
slowly faded out
and there you were
orbs of mingled light climbed the wall
you smiled
a repose from varying
blasts
you were glad to see me
had missed me
now you were leaving town
you leaned in
& whispered in my ear
i think someone
set those curtains
on fire

Jonathan Hine
Having given up writing for five years, Jonathan Hine has picked up his pen again out of sheer necessity. Previous poems appeared in Underground Voices, Gutter Eloquence, Nostrovia!, and Thunderclap Magazine.
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