All morning in the February light
snowflakes float down
shrouding the ground
and my mind wanders off
in wistful far off dreams
snow covered twists and turns
of unsalted country roads
under my tires jar my mind
back to present and
the cellphone rings and
I wrap the silver February light
protectively around my soul
work to do, people to see
but for the moment I am alone
on country roads in February light.
Linked to
Real Toads.
(Today's challenge was to write a poem starting with the first line of someone else's poem. I chose the first line of Telephone Repair Man by Joseph Millar.)