Huenemanniac

Listen: I know I’m not a poet, but what’s the point of blogging if you can’t throw an amateur attempt out there once in a while? Here goes:

A reason for the aliens

When the aliens in their shimmery green space suits
Finally pin me to the ground and ask me
(demand, in fact)
To provide a single reason why they should not
Vaporize the entire planet
(A fiery Armageddon for all our sins, none
Of which they can fully understand)
I do not, not even for a moment,
Think of our mighty dams and symphonies
Or all of the other loud noises we have made
But I think instead

Of a snowy afternoon
When my son came home with a headache,
A touch of flu,
And he laid in his bed
With his hands slipped neatly
Beneath his head
And my wife curled in with him to sleep
And I watched from the door
While the snow fell so silently, so silently,
Less even than a prayer.