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The Road Home

posted Jul 30, 2014, 1:36 PM by James Wu   [ updated Jul 30, 2014, 1:37 PM ]

When I came in from the outside
the carefully fallen snow that
had powdered the sidewalk,
which felt soft, like
mother nature's teddy bear;

it had been trampled by many
a traveler on their way to
who knows where; taking on
the color of urban dirt, splashing
unpleasantly at my feet.

Yet when I finally returned to
that sloping lane of cement,
I discovered the river of
slush completely frozen over
by the deathly curfew of
winter, and in that moment I knew;

I knew that someone besides me
understood how it's like to cry
when tears are frozen before they
can perform their destined fate
of forming rivers of sadness
across cheeks for all to see;

Nature stings my face gently with
her bitterness and we both laugh, for
we cannot cry; the soft, gentle youth
of freshly fallen snow has all but
gone with the wind, leaving in its
place a rigid, lifeless shell which
seems suitable more for the errand
of slicing a heart in half than gently
cushioning its fall.

If this were a Schubertian song, then
all would call attention briefly to
its sadness and move on, leaving
the leiermann to
continue toiling
forever and

ever and

ever

until

one

feels

and

sees

and

hears

nothing


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