The snow fell today, and
and silence lifted throughout the streets;
no whistling winds or chilling air
blowing against the breath of my mind.
Just the stillness. This moment. Here alone
making footprints on the dusting
over cobbled stone/with poet eyes dreaming the sky.
Walking, through the birth of winter night
I think of this freedom to feel and wonder why we search
to heal the past when the present
has embraced the strength that has grown into
our existence. I wonder about the life that has already been written
and the life awaiting its journal entry upon the process
of thought and I continue to walk.
It is just me and the night.
I watch the tree branches crackle through the shadows
and listen to cars glide through
a harmony of traffic/barely in sight. The capture
of the stars gleam down on the façade
where lampposts spotlight glimpses
ice stained curbs. The temperature is barely literate
but it reads me. It reads my shiver as a residue
of Malbec aromatizes my scented breath
with just a hint of sobriety.
Sometimes it takes a glass of wine and a long walk
in the brisk air to recognize
this romance with society/ as coldness
brings fourth the warmth of the heart and dampness
dries our minds to believe the process of renewal.
The snow fell today, and time hibernated
Inside a pause of a moment. This moment. These minutes
of conversing with life /searching and finding
my reason to belong
right in the embrace of Winter’s song.
Tarringo T. Vaughan