Musing Half Asleep
by Roger Pfingston
Pleasantly redundant, birds
chip away November
darkness,
though some, like the crow,
are more industrial. Imagine
sitting down at a table of
crows,
half a dozen blabbing
non-stop
like one of those talk
shows,
no commercials unless you
count another day’s molten
birth
in a lingering drought, the
slow-
passing clouds dialing down
the light on a gleaming
spread
of frost … icing on a
burnt cake.
---------------------------------------------------
A
retired teacher of English and photography, Roger Pfingston is
the recipient of a Creative Writing Fellowship from the National
Endowment for the Arts and two PEN Syndicated Fiction Awards. He is
the author of Something Iridescent, a collection of poetry and
fiction, as well as four chapbooks: Earthbound, Singing to the
Garden, A Day Marked for Telling, and What’s Given, the
latter recently published by Kattywompus Press.