In the Park at 3:30am

Though my body tires and I have far to go,

I know

I’m going home.

 

I’d nearly forgot the cold

wind blowing beige fields of snow

deep beneath the windows.

 

With millions of flaking photons

of white light,

millions of crystalline crumbs shattering the glow,

 

Until everything broke

like petrified birds against trees

lining the dirt paths

 

diverging somewhere far from home.

I squeeze through the narrow ways,

alleys.

 

I cannot go back,

there simply is not enough fuel

In the tank.

My shoulders are far

too broad,

too fixed to find another path.

 

I pulled off that lonely way

and let the engine run till morning.

It hummed against the winter movement.

 

It roared against the wide embrace

of cold.

Somewhere far from home. 

Reviews

[Michael X]

Wow, the reader definitely gets a feeling of being lost without hope, tired and worn out, overshadowed by cold and snow, reminds me of love and heartbreak, the drifts of snowflakes, such imaginative imagery!