top of page
The hurricane’s convulsive torrent
traps me in this red convertible,
top down,
rain sluicing in,
rising to my chin
and I want to open the door—
escape, like a darting fish—
but my sodden hands,
terror stricken,
are glued to the invisible
steering wheel.
Red Google Convertible
B r a d R o s e
Democracy of Secrets
bottom of page