you awaken
no sounds can be heard
no chirping birds
nor scurrying squirrels
just quiet.

you shuffle drowsily to the garage
slide your still stiff hands through a coat
pull a hat over your tousled head.

slip your warm toes into a pair of boots
and reach for the door
grasping it tightly with your mittened fingers
and awestruck gaze outward.

you do not step out, not yet
nothing has been disturbed.

you pick your foot up and prepare yourself for
that first step
whoosh.
a perfect footprint now lies behind you
again, and again
creating a path
a path in the snow.

the siren sounds
girls who were skipping rope, the melodious thump of a basketball
women's constant chatter
stops.
the wrinkles in the adults' faces deepen
stores are closed, homes quickly boarded up
everyone must make it inside.
a toddler trips on a stone and looks up
with huge unblinking eyes toward the sky
as if in response, the sky emits a low growl
causing the toddler to scurry home.
he enters the house, and just as he closes the door
it comes.
the people wait with bated breath, hoping
everything will not be destroyed by
the dust.

it begins
slowly at first
a light mist
it comes down harder and faster
i am skipping and leaping
twirling
my feet light as air
skimming over the ground
air whooshing by me
small flecks of coolness
sliding downward
creating trails of tears
soaking in all the joy of
dancing in the rain.

beautiful words written across paper
so many thoughts and dreams
put to rhythm
many scattered reminiscences
all put into one small paragraph
summarizing that person’s life
feelings put into words
words put into thoughts
thoughts put into dreams
dreams put to rhythm
poetry.

The fog creates a shroud of opaqueness
A tunnel for me to travel through
Erasing all the worries and doubts
Covered with a blanket of coolness
Eliminating all the fears
Of living in this world
Blurring everything
Making it look like a water color painting
Soft shades of blue and green
Faintly making out the outline of trees
As I walk down the road
Thinking about the ambiguity
Of the fog

the wind is slowly tossing the leaves up into the air
a beautiful movement of color and shape
the simple melody of rustling back and forth
the sound of feet skipping and running
through fields, across paths, through the woods
a movement of so much more
more than words and actions
than every life and being...
more than people;
more than me