The Power of One Writer
Back Yards, Ethiopia and Children's Books

Debut’s over poem

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.

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