sielwolf's Journal: The Weather Automatic

Rain, thunder and wind kept me inside today.
But later,
I went out
to see the world disappearing.
Fog had fallen
And all the shapes were indistinct,
Better: tenuous
on the dark navy canvas
where the earth
and the sky were unbroken;
they did not end.

February, fog, and 48 degrees;
Executive summary
of my Mid-Atlantic character.

Driving,
There!
A deer buck
in the oncoming lane.
Ha-ha-
Pairs of red tail lights flare
in my rearview
as the speeding cars
dodge
his mangled corpse.

It is night now:
this world is almost done.
Only parking lots lamps and signaled intersections
hover above us
casting watery halos over the
dark.

On the way back
the deer buck had moved
half-tumbled, rolled over
half of his horn splintered onto the ground.
The blood on his chin.

Incondescent red
street lights
or white flourescents
perched at doorways;
watch the windows:
each and every one of them glows.
There
a woman's silhouette.