A Poem for Friday

The work day is over.

On my way home

anticipating the arms and face of my loved ones.

I notice the clouds in my window and

want to grab my camera.

Not safe.

Thankfully, I must stop.

Need fuel.

Hurry.  Hurry.

They are moving too fast.

I stop.

Click. Click. Click.

A feather?  A flame?

Now anticipating the box.


I take a deep breath.


The beauty of this moment.

I continue on my way.