Michelle Paulsen
weekends of walking into the you grow tired a strange sudden
in storms

driving in the
dark, you see
only the largest
obstacles; they
close in, then
vanish. and your
dreams are the
same, you
sense their thick
presence but cannot
see. again, early
Sunday morning
every stick a
snake, you just can't
sleep
staring at a naked
up on his there is something
then there was the it may be a
snowflakes are fireflies for driving in the there is a
2River