Friday, December 23, 2016


on I-75, last chances from Amazon

drone FedEx through the night

with heavy lidded drivers.

second shift is over at AK Steel,

cars leak from its parking lot 

in twos and threes,

last call just an hour away.

the tree is radiant 

with baubles and tinsel

and candy.

gifts spread across the floor,

and wrapping still to be done.

here, everyone is asleep but me.

with a book in hand,

I worry too much this night

about things I cannot touch -

the weather, the scepter, 

lost time. everything seems heavy,

and angels distant.

the stars have drowned in city lights so 

I cannot get my bearings;

the old maps are all useless now

except for the florid inscriptions 

at their edges: "here there be serpants."

winter solstice is two days past,

in bed, I turn out the lights,

and in the darkness wonder,

if the days 

are really growing longer.


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