a child waits

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a child waits

sitting on a dimly lit stoop

listening to the an old metal sign

jingle in the wind

chilled by the frigid wind


a young man walks along the sidewalk

lit only by a fading yellow light on the nearest stoop

the creak of a metal sign

catches his attention

the familiarity of the wind takes him back to another time


the child waited

through the wind that blew the sign

through the rain that flooded his hair

trickled down his face

for days after

years after


the young man is reminded of childhood

of the countless hours spent waiting

in the wind and the rain

which he absorbed

chilling his soul

the man moves away from the stoop

turning instead towards the twinkle of sunlight shining through the clouds


the harsh yellow light radiating from the lamp

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the harsh yellow light radiating from the lamp

does nothing to help me find my way along the gravel lined road I walk


the faint outline of a body visible to my left

I reach out for the friend walking beside me

my hand fumbles through the darkness

searching through the pitch black air for the warmth of a hand to hold

all it finds is my shadow

my hand drops heavily to my side as I stumble on


a gust of wind blows through

pushing me along what I hope is still the street


the light flickers

goes out


a thought lingers in the back of my mind

trickles along my nerves

telling me I should stop

give up

but I can’t


I must continue down this road

searching for another light

to show me the way home

the flicker of light from the fire

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the flicker of light from the fire

converses with the colors of fall

strewn about the frail

crisp surface

a soft glow appears in its center

veins acting as pathways

guiding the light and the yellows and oranges


in some places

the light is blocked by its curves

casting shadows on the colorful surface

next to the fire these spots appear burnt


that at the slightest touch or gust of wind

they will crumble

sprinkle to the ground

becoming nothing more than the particles

that make up the dirt

trampled everyday by those larger than it


the soft glow from the candle

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the soft glow from the candle

casts an eerie sense about the room

flickering every few seconds

fading in and out


of whether it wants to remain lit


I long for it to grow brighter

to consume the walls

melt the ice that has slowly surrounded me

crept its way to my core


I try to move towards it

placing one foot in front of the other

but it is too late

ice spills out onto the floor

freezing me in this dreadful spot

in the shabby room


the soft ruffle of fluttering curtains

turns my head toward the cracked window

a chilly breeze rushes past me

chilling the tip of my nose

and sending shivers down my spine


there is nothing I can do


gone is the glow of the candle

miniscule as it was

it was my salvation

my escape from this world