What Happened Next

Restless hands, cupped briefly.
Light of the sun, fading.
Wind rises, and the stuttering crows
Are helpless black rags in the gust.

What happened next? Asked Elissa
Open my hands. The light drains.
What happened next! O dear Elissa,
Nothing happened next.

A cold thin fog spills over the roofs
Disconsolate discordant flocks
Make coastward. Elissa, dear Elissa,
Nothing happened next.