Around here, we learn at a small age
how to look for pink glow on the lowering sky,
the sign of the shadow waiting to fall.
We’ll never stop it from coming, and we know
we’ll be digging out of it soon enough
if we don’t drop from a heart attack in the driveway
or slip and fall to freeze to death, only to be discovered
weeks later. Every storm is a lesson in precarious
living, no matter how comfortable we are inside.
January 9, 2009
Waiting For The Next One
About Tony Brown
Dark Matter 
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