at the border

The customs officer is
bored and in a hurry
fog and scattered snowflakes
fill the empty sky
the woods the road
he sends us through
hardly looking at us

My wife releases her grip
the receipts
passport
justifications
flutter to the floor
of our accelerating car
fill the empty sky
the woods the road

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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