Nobody lives out this far.
You’re invisible, far
as that goes. Dark like
dark, white like snow.
What would a horse
think? You know. In
this situation?
Probably something
like, It’s really cold.
It’s really dark. What’s
going on here anyway?
It’s quiet. That’s
the snow. Quiets
everything. Except
the breeze. No, the
wind. Breezes are
warm, right?
It’s a paradox.
The trees, the snow,
so pretty. Lovely, you
might say. Somebody
might say. The dark
on the other hand
so dark. Scary, but
also pretty. But scary.
And isn’t that
always the way?
Every single thing
a blessing and a
curse? And not
there yet. Not
there yet.
John Calvin Hughes has published books of poetry and fiction, including The Shape of Our Luck, Cul-de-sac Agonistes, Music from a Farther Room, Twilight of the Lesser Gods, Killing Rush, The Lost Gospel of Darnell Rabren, and The Boys. He lives and works in Florida.
