Jennifer Juneau

Various Moods in Various Weather

Engaged in driving, I question doormats in rusticated arenas. Winter came, thus the cold sleety rain in drifts of sorrow.

Gelid blue alps
Fade out in the distance
Blinded by snowstorm

I promise I'll pray to admit light into the grey gallery I now call home. This is where my starvation hangs. I'm driving around town, searching for a spot to park my pain. In the raw afternoon I'm dead weight, but I'll call it by another name like "burned" or "flown" or "crusaded." As clouds shift, my mood suddenly lifts.

White crumbs of mountain
Plunge in one booming rush
Under a waxing sun