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
