Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Taunts Me

      Taunts Me

Dawn taunts me
Sleet pelts me
Insulated coveralls peppered
As sky spits on me

December's rudeness
Falls heavy on land
Bracing for heavy hand
Cold slap across face

Silence except tinselly noise
Sleet quietly playing on brown sleeve
I taunt the sky
Parading the dog about ten acres

I'm fully awake in our daily ritual
She is impervious
Dampness slide off her coat
As she sniffs and explores

Soon her night watch over
My day begins
When start the car
I'm already far away

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (16-351C)

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