Public Republic

Roger Conner, Jr


Photo: ComputerHotline

Everyone wants to get home from work, because of the snow, you know?
I left the store going slow, and coasted, it looked a bit dangerous, glistening crystals.
The light was green to go, the right turn was home, but I went on.

Straight through the light, I couldn’t stop, the infinity of flakes darting and whirling
in the headlights, the road magic white, alluring, I enamored, like seeing my first
red haired girl with freckles, I couldn’t stop grinning.

Coasting along up and down little dales and curves white in the dark, giving back light.
Solemn country churches with dignity and tall white crosses in the facades scold and
comfort with memories of old spiritual homes.

Bright stars are the streetlights against a sea of milky white, the porch lights showing the dignity of
quiet country homes, but the occasional aristocrat, regal and tall, brick and proud, white trim elegant
and classy as a fine suit, brick so beautiful when lit by snow.

Still I go, driving and looking for roads to keep me moving as I cherish me and the calm drama whirling around me, glad not to miss this, another winter able to see, able to be with this place and time.