4/9/25: groundswell

 day 9 of Napowrimo. Here is the prompt. I want to share this poem by Li-Young Lee today as well.

always, not quite, a roar
in between the combusting yowl and the 

thrum of passing by, from before
bearing down, coming through, fly over, fly by

vintage wheels and shitboxes and whatever
holds it up, in between, maybe more.

always at night, like the sun is some kind of
noise cancellation device. cues the sounds of life, 

sure.
comings and goings, stoppings, flowings,

slow rolling doom, hell on wheels, 
i'm just trying to sleep here. nothing to see

maybe the ground shouts in protest
or maybe just me.

The Real American Classic

 Another product of the weekly theme series for the word “Destination.”

Gold standard 

Fused with partial sunlight

Sneaking through the dense foliage 

Of trees in full bloom.

The shade,

Patchwork as it is,

meets with the swaying

of the trees

from a noncommittal wind.

The sound of an unknown

creature-

Critter or Magnificent Beast

rustles the path.

All appears

as if we have found

the hub

of the great wheel,

and we

are witness

to its mighty spin.

Here.

Now.