Driving 1431

Missed the turn for Mistletoe Bend
Crashing down the hill.
Waiting for me at the cold bottom
Would surely be the Schuylkill—
Frozen over and dark.

But those smoking Pennsylvanians
Failed to turn my pink lungs black, so
I’ll plainly outlive my tomcat Jack,
Though my heart may’ve wisht it weren’t so—
Undefrosted and stark.

Sliding out over the midnight ice
Moonbeams lit the way.
Coming to rest halfway over,
So quite a hike to the quay—
Blanketed icy, I’d mark.

Missed the turn for Mistletoe Bend
Now trodding over the old river.
Awaiting on the yonder shore
A sight to shame a shiver—
A pan wren enwinged with a lark.

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About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on September 23, 2014, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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