Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Crazy

I walk through the mist
in awe of the glistening snow at night
as the dharma of rain soaks my skin.

While the others are driving, splashing my shoes
I walk the two miles to my home
in my own cold baptism.

There is nothing in these homes for me
with their warm TVs,
there is only this chance

that another word waits around the corner,
a new rhythm to capture from the pleadings of rain,
a different sensation to coax from the winter dark.

1 comment:

Jack said...

Every line was superb here.

Tiny moments, one moment.