We break through thick, gray clouds and I see innumerable bright lights below,
Shining white from tall silhouettes, jammed into one long, narrow island,
Each warming this frigid night of someone with a name.
Twenty six letters in the alphabet, an infinite number of names.
We all have one, given at birth, before our parents know us.
I walk crowded streets, snow flurrying across the myriad faces in front of me.
A tiny, wrinkled woman, her head wrapped tightly in a worn, red scarf, I call her Amaya.
The darkest skin and whitest teeth of a young man without a coat,
hands shoved in baggy pockets, weaving briskly through bodies, maybe he is Robert.
The ear-muffed girl bouncing beside me calls her brother Billy, and he turns,
pink cheeks and wet nose, smiling at her, as they discover this new city.
A warm, packed restaurant called Angelo’s, an artsy street called Cornelia, an immense cathedral called St. Patrick’s, a solemn monument listing 3,000 names.
Our names announce our existence, introduce us to this world, represent who we are.
The power of a name.
Kindness
Be kind to everyone you meet
You never know what they are going through
Your choice is never defeat,
Your choice is never what do to,
But how you complete.
Winters Calling
As the snow falls its like a sprinter
A snow kissed face
The piles of snow being placed is like a printer
In a furry place
It sneaks closer, is that Winter?
Winter Morning
As the S
n
o
w
f
l
a
k
e
F
e
l
l onto the white
L
I E
P s of snow, the house stayed silent as the
W I N D wished by
d
The win w on the
o Cold
Winter
Morning.
Ozzie
A true companion
An adorable puppy
A delightful soul
Winter is Coming
Snow came bawling
trudging through snow
cold winds calling
as the storm blows
Cloudy Skies
D D
r r
i o
p p F
a
l
l
s the raindrops
p tter p tter d
i a r
o
p
the raindrops
!!!!!!!!BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!
the clouds ROAR
as the cloudy skies R U N away….
Winter Cold
Leaves fall, as it turns to winter
Trees surrender to the cold that’s a splinter
We all cuddle up by the fireplace with hot chocolate and pj’s
While we’re comfy inside, at the snow we gaze
the path of the seasons
I walk along the crunchy path of leaves so old they’ll turn to ash, and soon shall winter bring its wrath, of snow and ice of loneliness, so now I must dare and ask if you’ll be brave and walk this path
False Hope
Hope is beautiful
But can be crushed easily
Just like ants crawling