Blizzard Condition

The wind outside is angry

and so am I.

It whips around our so-called sturdy walls teasingly,

it slaps the tree trunks and bare branches

with such an attitude,

it howls boastfully until I pull back the shade to look.

In the pathetic yellow-orange glare of the streetlight,

the snow is not falling, it is dancing hectically,

dizzily.

Barely a flake lands on the hidden ground

before it is thrust back up into the air in a frenzy.

My sight falls, unimpeded, upon a rabbit in the yard,

a shimmery gray brown bump in the white flux.

They say the air feels like 20 below and I’m glad I’m not him.

But I imagine I am him

alone in the frigid night,

and while I sit amid the chill calculating my next jump,

a strong hand comes from above and scoops me up

and hides me someplace warm 

between a thick coat and a compassionate torso.

Perhaps I am not so glad.

1 Comment

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One response to “Blizzard Condition

  1. Oh I really like the ‘it slaps the tree trunks and bare branches with such an attitude’.
    http://www.awordofsubstance.wordpress.com

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