One lane in a smear of snow.
Someone is nuts enough to pass and for seconds we’re all swirling.
Then, for one hundred minutes, my world is i words:
One white stripe.
I slide. Throat tight.
Ice.
Sticking to 45.
I-I-I don’t like driving through snow.
Love that o word.
Home.
2 thoughts on “Debut’s over poem”
love the poem! glad you are still a poet! xo
beautiful…
“One lane in a smear of snow.”