Parking lot lights illuminate
sheets of wind and rain as they slam
down from sky onto city.
I didn’t leave my car in time
and now I must wait until
the barrage of elements ends.
Hail bounces off my roof
a thousand icy kernels
popping all at once.
Though I’m safe, the hundreds
of icy slaps around me
seem filled with dark purpose.
Some land with louder thunks
falling with the force of a hammer
so hard they make me jump.
What if they break through, pummel me
beating me for being a witch I never was
or adultery that never happened?
I may be fine, but I feel the echoes
all around, waves of sound reaching
inside the chambers of my heart.
Photo by maxime caron on Unsplash
Eloisa Perez-Lozano
Eloísa Pérez-Lozano writes poems and essays about Mexican-American identity, women’s issues, and motherhood. She graduated from Iowa State University with a B.S. in psychology and an M.S. in journalism and mass communications. A 2016 Sundress Publications Best of the Net nominee, her work has been featured in “The Texas Observer,” “Houston Chronicle,” and “Poets Reading the News,” among others. She lives with her family in Houston, Texas.
