They sit in their
Wide neon cocoons,
Cozy and warm
With hot air
Dribbling out of vents
And swirling around their bodies.
A thin sheet of metal protects them from
Nine degree weather
And bone-freezing winds
And sheets of shivering ice.
And yet,
Every day at
Exactly
Six twenty-four in the morning
They come around
Like wide neon caterpillers
And slink toward where I stand,
Legs frozen to concrete.
Doors open,
Burning cold air rushes in
And rubs against them,
But they wait and smile
As I climb three tall stairs
And greet them,
Welcoming the nice hug of
Warmth
And
Coziness
And
Comfort
And love.
They love me,
A stranger.
They love me enough to
Rescue me from
Becoming an ice sculpture.
So I fumble with
The Thank You in my pocket
And ****** it toward them
In my haste.
It is enough for them.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 8:45 AM UTC
They sit in their
Wide neon cocoons,
Cozy and warm
With hot air
Dribbling out of vents
And swirling around their bodies.
A thin sheet of metal protects them from
Nine degree weather
And bone-freezing winds
And sheets of shivering ice.
And yet,
Every day at
Exactly
Six twenty-four in the morning
They come around
Like wide neon caterpillers
And slink toward where I stand,
Legs frozen to concrete.
Doors open,
Burning cold air rushes in
And rubs against them,
But they wait and smile
As I climb three tall stairs
And greet them,
Welcoming the nice hug of
Warmth
And
Coziness
And
Comfort
And love.
They love me,
A stranger.
They love me enough to
Rescue me from
Becoming an ice sculpture.
So I fumble with
The Thank You in my pocket
And ****** it toward them
In my haste.
It is enough for them.
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