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Daniel Anthony Apr 2021
A moment of rare silence,
perhaps honesty, even prayer
on my drive home at night
among jacked-up trucks,
shifty-eyed low beams,
shifting medians of concrete
and brake lights as far as I can see.

I’m afraid what I will do trying
to outrun this life and untold others
I’ve cut off and are now coming at me.
A true fear, the kind I trust
as I grip the wheel with the strength
of anger that sees its worth in me.

Some mornings I stand in the road
and the moon is full in the trees
and pulling for me. Birdsong
is bringing me first light
to wear like a St. Christopher medal
against the surround sound
of the expressway always close by.
First time posting here, would appreciate any comments, thanks.
Daniel Anthony Apr 2021
Wind chimes
loud as church bells,
sun straight down, no wind
Daniel Anthony Apr 2021
The creak of trees
like a crack in the sky.
Small purple flowers scattering
before a stand of daffodils
taking the higher ground
with the brightest yellow.
Woodpecker holes in soft, dead wood
crowded like condos with the best views,
below a mile marker of old concrete
across the way from what I take
for a crumbling altar I think
will make a good grill
for whatever birds slow down
to keep up with me.

— The End —