June 20, 2015 § Leave a comment

I, of course 

had a feeling what

the impetus for it was

the insistence of fog

maybe, to keep

reason from the eye

but, what was for sure
is that

every melody 

that played

in my head on

this mornings drive

was reminiscent 

of a dirge
each note

slow and long
I feared doing

what we have

so long been told

to do
dim the lights

wait for a clearing
the cold mass I was

moving through

reflecting a light

that threatened to blind,
as if I’ve ever been

able to see

in the first place
(c) 2015 Fred Whitehead 


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