Cloud shadow hangs low
on brindled hills. The chill breeze
clears a musty mind.

Doors slam, birds trill, air
conditioners buzz, the wind
hums this daily choir.

This town was not named
in irony. A New River
rises every rain.

An editor, writer, and poet, Charles Grosel lives in Arizona. He has published stories in Western Humanities Review, Water-Stone, and The MacGuffin as well as poems in Epiphany, The Threepenny Review, and Cream City Review. His chapbook is The Sound of Rain Without Water.