The ice on yesterday's roads
melted away. We have grey sky this morning.
Some days one wakes empty and fills with wonder. Some days one wakes empty and stays empty - which is nothing much to fear if you don't make more of it than it is. Some days one wakes bustin' full. This is not one of those days. I am empty and pretty much I am staying empty. No sound of bird call. No storm rolling through. Not even the noise of morning traffic.
I think it is important to have a good companion for the journey through life; yet the most crucial elements one must navigate alone - examining one's little opinions, wrestling the devil during a dark night of the soul, walking towards death.
There is no frost on the windshield. The morning is cold. I can see my breath, the color of sky.
The morning sags. No wind to move the flag at the Fairwater cemetery. All the trees are dark against the whiteness of snow. The ditches along Highway E stay full. The wind has thrown some dust onto the snow: some doodled lines, secret markings. At Five Corners the donkeys take their morning hay.
This is another day the crows stay away.
"The morning sags" paragraph is really marvelous.
Posted by: Peter | February 18, 2006 at 05:50 AM
Thanks, Peter. You really are a devoted reader of these Morning Drive entries, aren't you?
Posted by: Tom Montag | February 19, 2006 at 04:16 PM