The Night of 9/9


​The night of 9/9
I was flying in my first car 

Chrysler New Yorker 

Close my glovebox done 

Whatever I was messing with 

Is not important anymore


I soared through a fire station 

Commotion bells sirens 

Men sliding down 

Running around halls frantic

I continue flew through a desert 

Devoid of all but a simple trailer

Flew through viewed men in turbans

Watching TV silent from disbelief 

I took off flying right down a strange street

All it had was gas stations 

As far as the eye can see. 

I fly and think this can’t be right. Lies

I bank to the side circled around 

Twice behind the last station 

Fenced in with kennels out back

Four dogs one a pure white Pyrenees 

One with a chow red like flames 

Last kennel with two dogs dead

German shepherd and a Dalmatian 

I flew on and I couldn’t understand why

It was snowing this high in the South 

Orange mesh barricades below

On both sides

My eyes burn

I rise cough cover my mouth

Cherries and berries and snow in the sky

This is how I remember 

The night of 9/9
True story poem by Lennée Reid 

Follow her online @lenneereid 


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