Every now and then I dabble in poetry. I enjoy it. I started enjoying it more when the "rules" of poetry we were taught in grade school loosened up a bit and lines no longer had to rhyme. I think some of my best poetry is like those fourth of July fireworks launchers: you hear the boom-poof sound a few times in a row and then various colors explode. That's how I like to write my paragraphs. Really. And, no, I do not drink when I write. LOL.
This is one I wanted to post closer to Halloween, although it was actually written on 8/13/2009.
I hope you like it.
481 Sentinels
481 South
Morning Rush
Barreling along
Late, again.
I glance left.
The green tree
Strikingly bright
Emanating fullness
Summer perfection
They appear as black lanterns
Sitting on the bows
Strategically placed
Ominous sentinels.
The beauty of the tree's symmetry
Spoiled by the horror of recognizing them
For who they really are:
Sentinels of Death.
A tree full of turkey vultures.
I scream and continue driving.
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