eighteen degrees in somebody’s system
also known by the sound of metal doors
not unlocking, the tang of skunk and icicle
the tunnel view of ice on windows
that won’t wipe free, the sound of wild
hooves skittering over wet barnyards
pretending to be tundra, the heartbeat
of sleeping quail in feather fluff the
crunch of wheels on the unyielding it is
night and cold and dark; no lights are on.
also known by the sound of metal doors
not unlocking, the tang of skunk and icicle
the tunnel view of ice on windows
that won’t wipe free, the sound of wild
hooves skittering over wet barnyards
pretending to be tundra, the heartbeat
of sleeping quail in feather fluff the
crunch of wheels on the unyielding it is
night and cold and dark; no lights are on.
news from a small town 16, November 2012
