Curtain Call
C Ra McGuirt
too early for fast food breakfast
and far too late to quit writing.
what happened to that promising thunder?
several good flashes rattled the glass,
but i was driving my word machine
and when i forgot about the storm,
the storm misplaced the lightning.
the birds are in rehearsal;
their voices aren't unpleasant,
but for me, it's a sad sort of music:
a song for the end of the night.
