in passing

the guy scraping his windshield
sent raspy blasts of ice drops
popping into the crisp cold air

Damn shame I didn’t go with my buddy:
he left for sunny Florida two days ago

He didn’t use the colon on purpose
I suppose it was just there cackling
silent as my despair that he couldn’t

see the wonder in fresh snow painting
a new world each day
instead he wanted to sweat in the sameness
of dusty palmettos and  cracked pastel
stucco I’ve been there interminably
for a stultifying two days fanning my face

those chards of ice are discarded diamonds
cast down by the blind in paradise

The voice of the poet

riverwriter reads:  
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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: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
This entry was posted in lotus eaters, Mild-mannered opinion, Poetry, scapes, serial, snow, thoughts below ground and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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