Hoar frost

Driving towards Charleston, sun luxuriates

Like the backside of a reclining nude

Hanging over a bar in film noire

Road bends left – sun glares back

You put down the visor and drive on

In high weed ditches and fields

hoar frost glistens along the highway,

Mist rises where cold meets warm

Thirty miles out, traffic strangles to a stop

This is why you left home early

You arrive on time

At the corner of Lucas and Calhoun

You drop Carol off for a six month checkup,

Park several blocks away

And walk to the Brown Dog Cafe

She texts she’s all checked in

And will text when she needs picked up

Slowly you relax…..everything will be fine

You order Jimmy’s Pesto Panini,

Try to look away when a waitress bends over

The table next to you to retrieve a menu

Charleston has its southern charm

And contemplate how a slave port

That fired the first shots of an uncivil Civil War

Can be called holy – Maybe it’s all the prayers of

Oppressors and the oppressed in need of grace

Southern gentility dressed in hoar frost,

Mystic steeples of sugar-coated truth.

Carol gets in the car, says nothing, has grown

hungry and wants something to eat

11-30-23