Today's poem is by Bill Carty
Prove it, show the wound.
In Sunland, everything was grand
in form and shadow because
the candle likes some darkness
to star in. Ahead is the arrhythmic
activity of the interstate,
a bollix birthed by flaming
Winnebago. It's a game day,
so yes, there's a game.
October means huge cloudy
descends from the ridge
to pluck you for his envelope.
For instance, today I woke up,
went about my matutinal rites,
and was swallowed in fog.
I wasn't making demands
of myself or sending aristocrats
up lamp-posts. I was having things,
then having to have them,
and so felt that loss leave me,
a hot-air balloon. Yes,
a balloon, that's what I lost.
It couldn't have been anything else.
Copyright © 2016 Bill Carty All rights reserved
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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