The haunting “hoom!” of the wind flying past my window
A wingless friend that flies above as we shuffle cold sidewalks below
The old knees of stiff trees desist against this chilled yoga forced upon them
Carries the scent of cool December I’ve come to know
And love because I can’t help but to reminisce
On all the memories of childhood bliss
The snowball fights; winter breaks, best friends, holidays but sometimes most of all the naïve ignorance.
Because now we just know so friggin’ much, am I right?
We’re consumed by the responsibilities of maturity and pride.
We must accomplish things as small as sharing a smile with a stranger and as large as the quest for self-actualization
When it’s cold like this and I’m sitting under my lamp bundled thoughts
-swerving
Letting the dim glow of the bulb wash over my arms and dissipate to the shadows and corners of my room
Muzak for my thoughts in the wind’s sporadic “hoommm!”
I find it in the least bit
unnerving
I exhale and release
-delayed-gratification
We’ve just learned the infinite diminutive time span of Christmas vacation
But for a second I’m little clumsy Sharde’ again
Making snowballs ‘till my fingertips are
burning                                                                                       1:07am 12.13.2010