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.
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