The low December sun backlights
A grove of trees.
–Photo by me
The low December sun backlights
A grove of trees.
–Photo by me
As I lay on the beach
Under tangerine skies,
Amid scattered
And twisted debris,
Thirteen dark birds
Were dispatched
From the sun,
And fast they came
‘Cross the dark sea.
They came to escort
A lost soul to the west;
Some soul that was
Newly set free,
And their black
Beady eyes
Looked around
For their prize–
Oh, why were they
Looking at me?
–Photo by me
–photo by me
winter clouds come down
for a visit, but they get
hung up in the trees
it’s nice to have visitors–
till they hang around too long
–photo by me
the falling snow
in the headlights
had me hypnotized
as i navigated our
family shuttlecraft
thru the meteors
from the back seat
of our chevrolet
it made me sleepy
so i crawled back
under my blanket
leaving my father
at the helm again
my parents chatting
and the low drone
of the wheels soon
had me drifting off
suddenly my mom
screamed and i sat
bolt up-right just in
time to see a giant
deer leap right over
the hull of our craft
i was sure of it
to this day i don’t
know what i saw
it sure seemed real
but i haven’t seen
any giant deer since