7:50, 12-31-87, Omaha
The world keeps turning,
The sun keeps rising,
Cold wind blows from over the horizon,
Blows across the planet to smite me.
Getting dressed this a.m. in the boreal dark
I heard an AM station from Chicago---
Driving to work in the arctic morning
I listened to a song about Brooklyn---
After another fight with her last night,
A fight whose icy silent echoes shadow me yet,
I look out a half blinded window
At a sky whose shade of blue there is no word for
And despair
Copyright © Scott Carrier | Year Posted 2023
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