WHAT YOU MISSED WHILE NAPPING IN THE CAR
1.
You missed your father cursing under his breath
the driver of a brand new Cadillac, the color of pewter,
its topaz headlights squinting in the sunlight,
for squandering, for ostentation, for vanity.
2.
You missed a gull and a plane flying in such attitude
and altitude and at such distance so that the gull
was superimposed on the plane, perfectly, wing
upon wing, tail upon tail, fuselage upon fuselage,
partners, for a moment, in synchronized flight.
3.
You missed clouds passing overhead that resembled
nothing at all, not even clouds.
4.
You missed your father cursing under his breath
the wearer of a mink coat, the color of pewter,
her topaz sunglasses squinting in the sunlight,
for squandering, for ostentation, for vanity.
5.
You missed a dog carrying a branch in its jaws.
6.
You missed two crows in the top of a pine tree
holding a conversation, that went something like this:
Caw cawwwwww, caw cawwwwwww.
Caw caw caw cawwwwwww, caw caw caw cawwwwww.
Caw cawwwwww, caw cawwwwwww.
Caw caw caw cawwwwwww, caw caw caw cawwwwww.
After a few minutes they flew away, and I could see
one had feathers missing from a wing, so maybe
that was what they were talking about, how the one lost
the feathers, but I didn’t hear that part to tell you.
7.
You missed a middle-aged woman, overweight
and made up heavily, trying to look younger
by wearing tight fitting jeans. She only made herself
look like a foolish middle-aged woman, overweight
and made up heavily. But I want you to remember her
the next time you want to try to make yourself
look older, which probably will be tomorrow.
8.
You missed the sun as a bank of gray clouds passed
in front of it. It looked like the full moon, that instead
of rising in the sky, sank lower. Then, in a gap in
the clouds, it came to incandescent life, the way
an ember, when you blow on it through the grate
in the door of the woodstove, flares to flame, so bright.
ABOUT THE ARTIST
Nominated for the National Book Award, the Eric Hoffer Book Award, and nominated three times for the Pulitzer Prize, J.R. Solonche is the author of 40 books of poetry and coauthor of another. He lives in the Hudson Valley.
Image generated using AI Image Gen
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