Storm

I walked outside just in time to see the world ending.
My spirit clawed past my teeth to have a look around,
but I sucked it back in with a clatter of ribcage.
The parking lot desaturated, turning ashen as
a field of cottony nothing obscured the sky.
A new mountain range to the west lit up with last light
as Old Mother pulled down the shade and the horizon went out.
Near me
tin cans and good intentions danced on an invisible roulette wheel
before spilling out into the street
where the nervous cars shoved.
I thought of the things I had forgotten to do:
Write a poem, do the laundry,
tell someone that I loved her.
Just another storm over Albuquerque.