THURSDAY: The January Road

BY ELIZABETH BARNES

Copyright is held by the author.

The wind
scoops up the snow
a yeti’s fistful
flings it in our headlights
torn satin sheets of startling white
as daylight turns to dusk
turns to darkness
and we claw our way up country side roads

The northern devil’s twisters
gathering force across flat fields
demand we turn back
turn back        you fools

Ahead and behind we see headlamps
grainy as old film in the snow-driven air
and we frozen as if by enchantment
welcome the lights
proof of other fools
risking all

We draw close to those headlamps
their warmth pulls us
for a near embrace
only to be rejected at the last moment

We avoid the ditches
but the road is an unsettling thing
Neil Diamond sings to us
of a hot August night.

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