MIRAGE

I am saddened to report that,
having fallen sufficiently behind in my writing
while on the road, I can't seem to close the gap.
I'm always a fortnight out of sequence,
no matter how I try to bridge the distance.
The adage, you can never make up for lost time,
is true. I'm sad to say. Sadder still,
are all the lost lines that spontaneously arose
as we hurtled across interstates,
I never wrote them down, said I'd remember them.
But they disappeared, like the ephemeral
mirage on a dry playa in the mid-day sun.
Crossing the valley I couldn't tell the difference
between solar panels and ghost lakes.
I am left with a thirst for those lost lines
that I will never quench.

4/25/18

For today’s prompt, write a report poem. I know, I know: Writing a report sounds about as far away from poetry as flying is to a penguin, but many poems report on a moment or an instance or a scene. In your poem (or poems) today, report on something big and important or small and inconsequential (or small and important–or, well, you get the idea).

2018 April PAD Challenge: Day 14