I Walk Alone

kicking through snow drifts.

Falling snow rapidly fills in my tracks.
Ahead of me is an unbroken white plane.
I trudge slowly onward into the storm.
Ungloved right hand grasping a letter.

Ahead of me is an unbroken white plane,
and the distance seems so very far.
Brutal wind whips at my uncovered face
trying to snatch, freeze my breath.

I trudge slowly onward into the storm,
bullishly trying to keep moving forward.
My destination seems still so far away
on this frigidly cold December day.

Ungloved right hand grasping a letter,
addressed to loved ones in New Orleans,
I wonder if I will freeze in my tracks,
life lost before I get to the mailbox.