by JDarrell Kirkley

this bad weather could scare crows
street lights rest their red eyes
weatherman predicts heavy fog
i am up early
"miles to go before I sleep”
settle down back porch cane bottom chair
ideas formulate like hardball homers
pen and tablet lie ready
smoke drifts upward cup of joe

thoughts float toward infinity
ball point idle
a fog covers the paper
____i stare into the whiteout

–weatherman warned me

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

Copyright by Dallas Poets Community. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.