From the Corner of My Eye

We drove to the cabin this weekend in the face of an October snowstorm forecast to be bad by local meteorologists. Usually, the more dire they sound, the milder the weather event in actuality. We payed them scant mind although, occasionally, they are spot on.

This was one of those times. The further north we went, the more accurate their predictions. I'll leave it at three and a half hours of "limited visibility" due to strong winds and snowfall.

Today's poem originated in a trip taken under similar conditions a few years back.



From the Corner of My Eye


Highways hum
with 4 x 4s and SUVs heading north,
cabin bound.

November sleet slamming down,
sodden woods waiting.       For what?

Then
from a pickup
a glimpse of blaze-orange.

Intense as my brother's
baseball cap              sweat stained
                           with sunrise pursuits.

Unmoved from its place
on the coatrack, tossed there
                                         insouciantly
following his last hunt,
four seasons past,
                 
               a month before the diagnosis.

Otis, his yellow lab,
nosing the deep-worn chair.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor