May 21, 2013

Lost Landscape by Joan McNerney

I am driving down a hill
without name on an
unnumbered highway.

This road transforms into
a snake winding around
coiled on hair pin turns.

See how it hisses though this
long night. Why am I alone?

At bottom of the incline
lies a dark village strangely
hushed with secrets.

How black it is.  How difficult
to find what I must discover.

My fingers are tingling cool, smoke
combs the air, static fills night.

I continue to cross gas lit streets
encountering dim intersections.

Another maze.  One line
leads to another.  Dead ends
become beginnings.

Listening to lisp of the road.
My slur of thoughts sink as
snake rasps grow louder.
See how the road slithers.

What can be explored? Where
can it be?  All is in question.

Joan McNerney’s poetry has been included in numerous literary magazines such as Seven Circle PressDinner with the MuseBlueline, Spectrum, three Bright Spring Press Anthologies and several Kind of A Hurricane Publications. She has been nominated three times for Best of the Net.  Four of her books have been published by fine small literary presses. 

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