a wintry thursday morning

and the sidewalks are chipped with frost and footprints
the towers shimmer gold in the rising sun
the rivers are frozen, but not quite frozen
and the wintery air hurts my face but in a good way
the train runs by with cargo for the countryside
and there are mittens and toques in a thin sea of commuters
there are cars below, a truck driver with his load for the day
a mother running for the door with her stroller, though she passed two on the way
and there’s dirty snow water sliding down the floor while the masses leave
salt crystals left on the platforms because no one wants to lose it today
and the greenhouse is hiring, seedlets arrayed in their backyard
the tree branches are hanging icicles out to dry
and the brush below is a wonderland of wading if only we had more time
the turn of a newspaper, the shuffle of wet boots
the hustle and bustle of downtown
and I make fun of myself because I needed medication for anxiety
but people don’t stress me out, it’s the everyday things that I turn around
when yelling doesn’t get to me, but a staircase can because I had one thought
and it’s all for something, but we’re just not sure what yet
the destination is determined, but are we really going there now or right now

        and all I want to do is
        sit on a snowy rooftop with a coffee
        and observe the world going by.

One response to “a wintry thursday morning”

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