January 2009


Up here, January isn’t the beginning

but the middle,

Of winter, doubt, serious cold.

Sharp wind slices along the main street

Crowded with the sounds of hard working cars,

Of tough packed snow, labored breath, creaking ice.

Mean sky and low clouds light our faces,

Flushed and creased with flat smiles,

Of determination, measured hope, longing.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s