Driving Through Fog by AJ Huffman


Highway markers tick by, blurry
sentinels barely breaking the monotony
of trees, their black skeletal arms directing me
onward. My mind gives them life, watches them
rise again and again from the gray mist
that, in another world, might be tendrils of dying
fire. These demon phoenixes become
my silent wingmen. Together we fly
into another seemingly endless dawn.

___________________________________________________________________

About the author:

A.J. Huffman has published seven solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. Her eighth solo chapbook, Drippings from a Painted Mind, won the 2013 Two Wolves Chapbook Contest. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and her poetry, fiction, and haiku have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, Kritya, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com

___________________________________________________________________