3/52: storm song

The snow is falling like down,
signaling my heart to rest
even as my tires slip a little
and the traction light flickers
on the dash board
warning me against the white song.

On through the storm I push
wishing I were on a horse
covered with a wool cape
and a brimmed hat,
easing along through the woods.
Yes, agrees the song -
this is what you want.

2/52: into the night

behind
like a black wall
like some life-sized Transformer
the semi's cab reflects
the orange of the sunset
in my rearview mirror.
the silhouette
ringed with fire
like a dark angel
pursuing me
out of Memphis and into the night.

1/52: not like a storm

the thunder is here and there
like someone playing with the balance knob
on my father's old hi-fi -

and then the flash behind the blinds
like my sister's dance strobe -
the one she bought at Spencer's -
she and her friends playing music in the basement
hair, arms frozen in ice light.

and then comes the rain
   on the roof
   and against the windows.
it's just like the tracks on my mother's meditation
tapes
the ones she listened to,
and nothing got wet.

tonight is not like
a storm.

***

goal for 2015: 52 poems. I know it's modest, but I tried 365 and it was just too hard. I figure 52 I can do. Not necessarily one a week, but 52 does have nice symmetry.