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A Poem: Cars
April 11, 2014
Walking through my kitchen,
on a chilled morning spring,
I see through a window, a glowing of the woods.
Sourceless torches humming
through the pines.
I exit the house and wet my feet with dew.
While mourning doves share a branch
in the periphery of the scene,
pulsating orbs hover towards me only to turn and vanish.
With the sound of wet rubber on a gravel road,
I head back inside,
more headlights passing behind me.
© Katlyn H., Topeka, KS
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