Heading Home in a Storm

                                 Jagged rage flicks overhead,
                 grumbles in primeval throat.
                                 Maddened cloaks of sea green
                                            shroud tunnels of tall corn.
                                Truck headlights skitter over
                splintered cottonwood sentries.
            You look back at rosy sunset,
                        then grind clutch,
                                         spit gravel.

***
Julia Meylor Simpsonlives in East Providence, RI, and works in corporate communications. Her poetry has been published in literary magazines across the country, and she was the recipient of a National Endowment of Humanities fellowship in 2006. She has an masters in teaching from Rhode Island College and a Bachelor’s Degree in journalism from Iowa State University.

Read also Touch the Edge and Then.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: