burning some old barn
beams for fuel

the 19th-century knots
pop like pistols

and my train of thought
goes off the rails

forlornly blowing
its figurative whistle

into a night bright
with fallen snow

we’re all fugitives
from the present moment

in our distracted states
of america

no wonder it takes gunshots
to wake us up

i hear footsteps
in the kitchen

and find myself
in the bathroom mirror

happy to dwell
in this icy stillness

it’s the future
i’d like to escape

a choose-your-own-
doom story

we picture as a shining city
on a hill which once

might have been more
like a mountain

2 Replies to “Reflection”

  1. Good Morning! I am quite dismayed that the Morning Porch link no longer works! I also cannot locate comments, to have answered back to you. I had commented how much I appreciate the daily Morning Porch and now the link goes to Via Negativa where I cannot locate the small daily writings. I wonder if you would direct me to those, so that I might correct the link that I have. I feel such a sense of consternation and loss at losing them. Of course my mind yaps at me it is because I pointed out that I loved it so. Rolling my eyes and shaking my head at the thoughts. I hope you all are well.

    1. Thanks SO much for letting me know! I believe the problem is fixed now, although I’m not entirely sure what caused it, just did a bunch of tinkering under the hood until it worked again – basically the equivalent of knocking on things with a hammer. Thanks also for your kind words and interest in my work. Cheers.

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