We were lying on the beach. Marie, who felt the cold less than I did, had gone for a swim after our picnic. She'd come back to lie next to me, without drying off, enjoying the hot sun on her wet ... [+]
Mountain Nose: International Voluntary Services/VN, ’68-’69, II-III Corps, as orphanage shop instructor, supply delivery, and recon. Member Poets West Society. "Indiana at 3 a.m." was given Honorable Mention in Short Edition's America: color it in. Contest, summer 2020.
In the morning night
When streetlight shadows
Scramble rat-ways
Under parked cars
And rain, down pipes,
Taps the pavement
Like an impatient date,
Then radio music,
Drifting memory-thin
Over rural roads,
Sputters at its edges
And freight trucks
Swish the overpass,
Their beams streaking
Above my windshield:
A caravan of comets.