sunrise, power lines

this is a picture for the cover of a book:

maybe about a small town

slow paced

character driven

with prose that is simply

beautiful–

but it doesn’t really have to be about anything in particular,

it just has to speak

in a way that makes you think it alive–

breathing, yet

frozen.

I don’t have the book:

only the picture.

clouds

“the gloom behind the wrath of devil’s snare and bad breath”

this is what my husband tells me is poetry:

I suppose it is a bit shocking

and doesn’t make sense–

and isn’t that what poetry is?

Still–

it doesn’t seem to match the picture.