The Road

Dan Thomsett Snow in Minster

 

The Road

:

Just above the road there was
this pale hand waving at me.
Dust and ashes rose in the sun,
The trees seemed to be in winter.
Their long, crooked limbs poked
into my eyes. I stepped
on patches of ice. It could
have been cotton, hardened
to disguise its proverbial softness.
No slipping, I told myself. This
road is long but it will end.
I followed the dry spikes of the fence.
I felt almost happy.

:

First published in 2River View, Fall 2002, issue 6.1

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: