I’ve a poem in the May issue of Pennsylvania’s Poetic Voices. Here is the poem:

FOGGY DAY

I drove through Penns Valley
in the thick of an early morning fog
like a chess master
playing blindfolded.

You see, I’d forgotten
how to sleep
and been nowhere at all
since the virus blew through.

Now I could only hope
my long history
with this winding road
would do, instead of sight.

Truth is,
I was nowhere
still. But perhaps instinct
makes the man.

After twenty minutes the fog
suddenly lifted—as if someone
had taken the cloth from my birdcage—
like an unexpected smile.