by Bryan Weeks

With all the commotion of thunderheads 
on the horizon, the city seems silent
as if awaiting the word of God. 
Limestone towers and bridges define
the curvature of the land
leading the eye to the river, 
hidden in the green heat of summer
where nothing happens. 
The clouds open. One last whisper
of blue light falls on the windows
of the city’s massive Cathedral. 
Inside, we might imagine the nave
overtaken by scattering light
and prostrating monks. 
In all their fervor, they are 
ignorant of the Greek on the hill
madly applying paint to canvas 
in a conversation with God.
They are waiting for the storm to come. 
He knows that it never will.

Bryan Weeks earned a B.A. in English & Creative Writing from the University of Washington in 2013 and M.A. in Education from Boise State University in 2022. He teaches English at an alternative high school and also leads ongoing reading and writing groups in philosophy, literature, and poetry for adults in Boise, ID where he lives with his wife and son.