Nearly asleep, with the splish of wet on windshield
Moving droplets attest to the lone in lonely.
And as fast as grass and trees and buildings go by
That smear, rain reflecting reds and yellows
In appearing and disappearing headlights.
Wipers keeping rhythmic time.
Vivid, swimming, colors, poured out,
As if from the sky,
Purposely mingling and mixing, on canvas fixing.
And in the haze that comes before sleep
Comes a hum from the radio
And your hand on my knee.
Cell phone picture and poem by Cindy Prochnow Spring 2010


Salon.com
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