Slit

Slit

ferocious lightning across

the Mississippi River

the distant long tree rows look

like fogged-in mountain ridges

the Missouri River rushing

toward the Confluence

I walk in a slit of no rain

rain on either side

the air viscous

my breaths labored heaves

clothes pasted with sweat and salt

mosquitoes lounge in the woods

waiting for the blood drive

their whines like tiny sirens

the slit of gurgling creek flooded

the color of coffee with cream,

three does watch me unafraid

“tock-tock” of chipmunks

sounding danger

cicadas waterlogged

and playing out of tune

a fat young man walking by me:

“I’m hunting the bear,

I got a score to settle.”

 

 

 

 

 

About Eugene Jones Baldwin

I am a writer: non-fiction, fiction, journalism (Alton Telegraph), essays (The Genehouse Chronicles) and have a website: eugenebaldwin.com. I've published a couple dozen short stories and had eleven plays produced. Current projects: "Brother of the Stones" (available on Kindle), a book of short stories; "The Faithful Husband of the Rain, short stories"; "A Black Soldier's Letters Home, WWII,;" "There is No Color in Justice," a commentary on racism; "Ratkillers," a new play. I am an avocational archaeologist and I take parts of my collection of several thousand Indian artifacts (personal finds) to schools, nature centers, libraries etc. and talk about the 20,000 year history of The First people in Illinois. (See link to website) I'm also a playwright (eleven plays produced), musician, historian (authority on the Underground Railroad in Illinois, the Tuskegee Airmen) and teacher.
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