|Jan/Feb 2018 Poetry Special Feature|
Textile Photo Art by Jeffrey Trespel
Driving South on I-55
My favorite songs setting the mood.
A flâneur behind the wheel—
I haven't seen a sidewalk or unanswered question
in hours—left them back in Chicago.
Some forty-five miles away
a silver-grey misty fog portentously
came over the tawny fields around me,
the way a poem comes into the world.
So I figured,
once I got the chance,
I should write something down
before it vanishes.
Perhaps questions can be friends that are unanswered.
I saw a gray farmhouse and auburn barn
that could have been from Wyeth.
I too paint my life.