Cain
Patrick Kanouse
Cirrus clouds damask the dusk.
Bleating sheep clamber up a hill
To an orchard of olive trees.
A focused ear can catch the sea’s waves
And a tale of blood unshed yet
Crying from the dark, tilled soil.
He, ashamed, reaches down
And lifts a rock he bounces in his hand.
Its heft certain to do the job
His rage demands.
Soon the orange dusk turns dark blue
And darker and dinnertime
And all the world changes.
Patrick Kanouse’s poetry has appeared in The Pennsylvania Review, the Connecticut
Review, The Evansville Review, Smartish Pace and previously in the first
issue of Tipton Poetry Journal. He is a managing editor for Pearson
Education, a publisher in Indianapolis. His
website is http://patrickkanouse.com.