My Porch
by Richard Dinges,Jr.


          Most evenings, darkness
          envelops my porch
          Wrapped within a cocoon
          of tepid light, I squint
          at sounds, unable to see
          more than glints
          the size of stars
          from cars passing,
          an occasional ray of hope
          that breaks through
          this smeared haze
          that hangs overhead.
          Until sun rises,
          I can see little
          of how much all
          has changed around me.





Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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