& I imagine the end of the world
by Peter Roberts
& i am standing
on a verge of fresh-mown lawn.
sunlight, late-afternoon orange,
slithers between slender
dark blue-green pines, &
mingles with the smells of spring.
& suddenly the light i see
is strange, the sun
is different subtly.
its surface shifts,
its colors change:
purple, orange, then green.
facets form, & bubble-like,
the sun grows fat, & then
it bursts just like a stuck balloon.
& i am transfixed,
knowing eternity,
knowing this instant
holds all of eternity
i’ll ever know.
_________
Despite a constant fear of being struck by a meteor, Peter Roberts grew up near Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and earned a BS at the University of Pittsburgh. He currently works as a writer, computer consultant, and full-time father in central Ohio. He has only rarely been confused with Robert Peters, although Peters did once write to him asking for reassurance that “Peter Roberts” was not meant as a parody of “Robert Peters.” Over the past thirty years or so, he has had poems and stories published in various literary magazines, including Homestead Review, Octavo, The Paumanok Review, Poem, Ship of Fools, Lullaby Hearse, The Wisconsin Review, Lullwater Review, Bitter Oleander, Nebo, Star*Line, The William and Mary Review, New York Quarterly, and Confrontation. He has poems forthcoming in Star*Line and an upcoming anthology from Gival Press. For a more complete list of publications, and additional personal information, see his website: http://www.geocities.com/peterroberts.geo/personal.html.
Copyrighted by the author unless otherwise noted.
Art Director: Bonnie Brunish
