Five o'clock Shadow

Written by: Katelyn Dobbs

Orange bleeds yellow above
the white tipped horizon 
My fingers are crying, 
for the days 
of never ending bath-tubs.

Soon-
winter will carve
it’s 5 o’clock shadow
across the east coast. 
and smoke will rise
from brick chimneys.

On sunny afternoons,
Guilt may find it’s way
to dig it’s heel.  
But here-
the cold is biting my toes, 
and my mind is free 

to listen to the dogs wrestling. 
Playing, like fiddler for a hot meal.