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The Playwrights Forum > The Art & Craft of Writing > Poet's Corner : Critique my Poem > Procession

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 Posted: Tue Feb 4th, 2020 05:05 pm
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timmy
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Joined: Fri Jun 9th, 2006
Location: Oz, Minnesota USA
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The line passes in front,
one car at a time, headlights
in full sun—

how odd this pause, as if you weren’t
moving fast enough; colors of the trees
blanched from morning rain;

odder yet
because you had missed a turn somewhere
and am confirmed lost amid pancake
breakfast signs, dollar stores, convenience
gas stations, a Catholic church.

Finally, the hearse.

And a large crow swoops low
across the center line
before you pull out,
determined to find your way
home.

Last edited on Tue Feb 4th, 2020 05:07 pm by timmy

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