(collection)
a fog’s come over the city
and a cloud seems to
be low enough, just
enough to cover part
of the hill
so that from afar
it appears as a tidal
wave of trees
but out the top
sticks a radio tower
bright and tall.
two geese stand on
the otherwise vacant
golf course, one
with its head up
and the other with its
head down, but they
stand very close together.
i’ve got a bruise
forming on the back
of my left hand
as the blood they’ve
drawn from it
will be analyzed to
ensure that it is safe
for me to continue my
medication at the
current dosage.
the fog maintains
its presence
as i drive, now
at night, to get
back home. the
road i’m taking
has many hills and
turns, and
i’m finding myself
slowing down
a lot, turning a
thirty-five minute
drive into something
probably closer to
a thirty-seven
minute drive.
i think of a bad
pun to tell you
when i arrive,
to hopefully
make you smile,
then note
regretfully
that i will likely
have forgotten
it by then.
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