Gripped in déjà vu
an orange peel sky
gives way
to approaching headlights.

A long way from home
I am slowed by mud clods
upon other mud clods
unmoved by sticks.

Fence posts await barbwire
to become a barrier.
Crows break in the posts
while surveying traffic.

Despite the distant thunderbolt
my cell phone remains at zero.

copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

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