Cape May Prophecy
by: Sean Lynch

October after the apocalypse, we climbed
sand dunes, trudging through beach shrubs

as wings fluttered among us; using phones
as nets, we captured souls of monarch butterflies.

Wind lifted your denim dress. In the future
I think of you, imagine lace wrapping
your body and wish that I could hold you again.

At that moment by the ocean I saw prophecy,
felt loss. Waves crashed as we sank into the earth.

The butterflies were migrating
and I could not love anything
so beautiful enough.

Unpresent, not catching up,
even though I climbed too far ahead.

 

–

Sean Lynch is a bartender who writes and edits poetry at his home in South Philly.