Watching the wind in the trees
Traffic like sirens on the road
Flowers fade to brown
In the late summer heat
Waiting outside Lobby A
Dad in PT for a torn arm
Doctors leaving work
Squirrel searching for acorns
The sky turns blue to grey
A gentle breeze soft on
My shoulders out of the west
People going home to their
Dinners and the evening news
Ten minutes pass, then
Twenty. Tires scream
On US-23, heading south

I am sitting in the red Malibu in the parking lot at Domino’s Farms, waiting for Dad. It has been a half hour already and will be a half hour more. I wrote this poem just looking out the windows, watching the world, and listening. It is peaceful here and the car is comfortable with the windows open and a fresh breeze blowing from the west. It is September 3, 2020, and a couple months until all hell breaks loose in America.

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