Poem Of The Day #44

Image by WikimediaImages from Pixabay

The road is dry, 
the trees are still--
The big snow storm, 
in forecast only, not for real. 

I sigh in relief--
what a lucky escape. 
I'm having chionophobia--
the fear of snow, and the dirty road afterwards.

She says, "Me too. We don't have snow either--
only freezing rain.
Two colleagues with Omicron here--
I work from home again. Take care."

Several years ago, she sought my advice. 
"No. Don't do it." I gave her my conservative opinion. 
I was reading Eliot at the time who says
that a moment's dare cannot be retracted
by an age of prudence. 

I've regretted it ever since. 
It's not about her, since she probably 
wouldn't listen to me anyway. 
It's about me--
I'm so disappointed in myself. 
Am I the flightless bird, 
who dreams of flying, but will never fly?

6 thoughts on “Poem Of The Day #44

    1. Thank you. Haha. Sometimes one is just a flightless chicken and there’s no point flying. So true. Flying and crashing can be traumatic, and many of us don’t get a second chance. So we have to be careful.

      Liked by 1 person

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