Exploring the world, one voice at a time.
Under an interrupt-this-broadcast
gray sky.
Headed west
toward the quiet edge of Fort Worth
the sky
gets bigger.
Deep in January the land is
naked,
exposing
the razor burn hidden by the green
in spring
in summer.
But winter is honest.
And beneath the cold and heavy sky
we are
reflected.
Tattered plastic snagged in vacant trees
that we’ll
make pretty
dystopian Christmas tinsel with
just the
right filter.
We’ll remember what we pretended to see.
©2018 by Karen Petree
Karen Petree daylights as an adjunct French and English as a Second Language professor, and moonlights as a writer and visual artist. She lives in Texas with a dog named Reba.
This really captures that winter drive across open spaces, and holds the tension of the unpredictability of such a drive. The razor burn image is really interesting. Thank you.
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