Sleepless Drive Poem by Michael A Arnold
Sleepless Drive
A sleepless drive
through a hard rain:
falling brown leaves,
a thick blizzard of
autumnal fallout
(like snow)
Spread everywhere
around their trees
Like an overturned wine glass
over a clenched hand
the ink is not drying.
Poetry, I know,
is a discipline
lost in translation.
Here, only the blizzard remains.
Saturday, March 5, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: blizzard
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8/28/2026 9:07:26 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
