Thoughts on a winter day. |
It was like a fog Blinding everything ahead of us I looked behind me and there, too, I could not see The white flakes fell in a rhythmic way each had its own place, its own role to play In the overall scheme. I wondered where I was going But not you who had found a snowflake. I wished I could. Upon waking the air is crisp, cold --carrying a silent breeze. The handle on the window is stubborn, it defies me squeak, jolt, closed--finally closed. The roads are busy, with a purpose Hurry up! We have places to go! People to see! I walk slowly. Gazing in a window I see a man with a hopeless tint covering his face Now, I think, while you still can. Some while down the road... A woman with a young child running Hurry up! We have an appointment! The sound of my footsteps grows farther apart. Not anymore, I think, perhaps it is too late. I can see my breath Blend in with the fog before me Strangers walk past with their audible footsteps crunch. Leaving their first impression. I will hold the door open. You are still here I remembered Mingling fingertips boldly contrast straying minds. We do not walk in unison. Across the street, two silhouettes walk side-by-side side-by-side not separated You gaze, smile, I look down. The silhouettes walk in unison. As snow falls, night does. You & I sleep--finally close eyes. We finally sleep--close eyes. Red, orange hues open my eyes... You are no longer there. Past unmade sheets, past yesterday's garments, Past an open door, past a coat not hung A welcoming sense of warmth. You are still there I know. You gaze, smile, I move closer and lean Mingling fingertips, a walk in unison |