Thursday, February 27, 2014

February Birthday

We walk through the park
in the cold. It's
as if the warm weather were
stolen from us. We feel
something was stolen from us.
I guess I always felt
unsafe even though I was
never really in danger.
You never know
I used to say
when the rug will be
pulled away and the ground
will catch you in the knees:
hard, ice hard. Will you
survive the fall?
I wait for rescue
as the snow covers my face.
I deserve better. Life remains.
Life remains.
I look up at the sunny sky
mocking me as the wind
drills beneath my jacket neck.
Those who made the rules
say they work.


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