In purgatory silence

A fool in the snow

Can’t see where to go.


Toward Patience

or Time

or Remember When?


At His cross-roads,

the way so

Glacier slow.


Northern: Drifts of Doubt

Southern: Endless Drought

Eastern: Fields of Pride

Western: Wasted Time


All Kodak-scattered,


Under the tundra of

Yesterday’s Blunder.


Chilly smiles deliver warmth

Perhaps mistaken

Before history morphed.


Spring will come, but for now,

The Dunce, in flake-strewn air

waves crispy gloves to see

a route towards Wherever.


Just, Free.


Watching iPhone-boy,

on your distant side-street in quiet

Don’t Care,

shift the cozy curtain there,

Toss a gesture.



Just point for Him in falling snow.

Diabolically smart,

You must know ... 

Give it over.

Get it over.


and be Done.


Just tell the


fool to


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Reader Comments (2)

How deeply sad. Everyone feels this sometime, stumbling through endless dark fields of snow, with no sun, no hope. Luckily, for most of us, it's only 'sometime.'

September 13, 2012 | Unregistered Commenteranonymous

What a wonderful piece. Loved it. Very clever, sad and heavy...Felt it.

August 5, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterERNYC

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