Saturday, 11 April 2020

Snow Falling on Rush Hour

by Erica A. Fletcher

try to be on time this time
clear an inch of sorrow off the windshield
you’re in the yard packing snow
in your mouth as if you were a toddler

don’t lose your joy
we are so here & there always there
is so much of life that is shit
on the road & the road
feels endless

but just last week you were boldly petting bumblebees
in the echinacea patch
today you are lip synching the
disposable whatever on the pop radio station

this is your mother speaking
don’t lose your joy I have a book
full of unwritten poems for you

* * * * *

Erica A. Fletcher works in biomedical research and plays rock music in the band Nurse & Soldier when she has time. Nobody knows she writes poetry. She lives in Boston with her husband and children. 

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