Peripheral Vision

November fog is almost ice,

frost on trees growing,

not quite ready for winter snow.

Then some flakes and you know

the cold on your face is warranted.

It has come,

the turning toward all

you have learned to understand

as change in seasons.

Until the corner of your eye

reveals the squirrel

above head, his paws scraping

frost off the power-line

into the corner of your eye.

Knowledge fails

with peripheral sight.

 

first published on Triod.com, 2015: taken from “Some notes on 21st Century Sorcery”.

 

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About johnsmithiiimxiii

John Smith, IIMXIII is the avatar of an award winning poet, artist, etc. who still lives in the Palouse country of the Pacific NW. He has not received much notice with his prose . . . but as his avatar, I hope that he keeps plugging along.

3 responses to “Peripheral Vision”

  1. yassy says :

    Great visualistic verse.

    Like

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