Winter
Clay Carpenter, September 2009
in the cold of that day when the storm
in his father’s brain closed the roads
choking off commerce and leaving him
to navigate his teenage years alone
he drew a roadmap to last 40 years
delay became his watchword and he
pushed on under stars accumulating
mileage sleeping little to capture minutes
forgoing entrees for desserts foraging
for arguments basking in anger doing
cannonballs in pools and conversations
blowing smoke rings with the best of
them buying brawling working and
playing games as if they were work
a trip up the Amazon hard labor on a highway
then law school and marriage to a divorcee
with two kids a family prepackaged
a humanitarian mission to squeeze in
before the snowflakes silently began
to fall in his head, filling gullies, piling on
mountainsides, forming layers that whispered
avalanche.
Clay Carpenter is a newspaper copy editor in Corpus Christi, Texas. Truth be told, he wishes he could spend eight hours a day writing poems instead of headlines. His poems have appeared in literary magazines including Facets, Apple Valley Review, Falling Star and The Orange Room Review.
