Gray as rained-on pavement
With streams racing to the storm drains.
We walk with umbrellas and newspapers
Covering our ever-hectic heads.
We are still dark and become wet
With drops and rivulets impinging
On our weary legs and sodden feet.
Concrete and steel fly above us,
Glass becomes light with weakened sun-rays.
We search for a different kind of light,
One that ignites and flames our hearts.
We crave bonfires and hot cocoa,
Stuffed duvets and flannel blankets,
Padded coats and sturdy boots.
Winter is always here,
Freezing our brains and icing our souls.
We pretend cheer and act as if not
Even a wrecking ball will shatter our lives.
There is a cog broken, and the rain
Rusts our being to help us stand the snow.
© 2017 Valerie Hathaway