swirling

In the headlights, snow swirls over the roadway:
level sinuous eddies, not liquid but fluid.
The car glides like a boat planing on ghostly
water, or a bird drifting over liquid
marble in the mind of Ullysses’ men
so far from home, so lost, so long.

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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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