Back to the Wall

Winter is never inconsequential.
Even a light snow has its beauty
and its cold.  God forbid
we get caught in a blizzard.

Weary travelers stranded —
vacant faces bare as the fields
except for traces of desperation.
No choice is the only freedom.

This separation from civilization
enforced by the limited lifetime
of an overused cell phone
and a flashlight growing dim.

It is January; this is more
than just a bad dream.
Picture yourself in the midst
of the storm.

Here, at the edge
of the snow covered road,
come face to face
with the man in the mirror.


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