Morning Run in the spring fog
It holds me
Protecting me from all the evils of obscene remarks
From sons of dogs of the human species.
Only the familiar barking of the fenced dogs
Tell me I am on usual roads
Flick!
The floor of the street looks different
A different street sign
Must retrace, retrack, rerun to the familiar;
The rising sun insists on being a single headlight
Pushed down by the fog which has to be a giant whale
I am running more and more in my own world.
© Copyright joan joesting 1978
No comments:
Post a Comment