Walking down on Broadway
the sky was filled with diamonds –
they were snowflakes in the night lights
falling softly to the street –
And while wishing you were with me
so we could share this winter moment –
A woman walked ‘gainst the wind
toward me,
hat down –
gaze fixed firmly at her feet.
There was this outfit in the Thrift Shop
I was certain you would die for,
while thru the bistro’s steamy panes,
no diners even saw me turning white –
Ambling down the sidewalk
past the shopwares in the windows;
sinking deeper into nightdreams –
taking in the frigid crystal sights.
Then, scraping white stuff from the windshield
and stamping frozen water from my feet;
the scene took on a...
...harsher meaning...
Driving home, alone, to sleep,
hands clenched,
white knuckled to the wheel –
slipping, sliding down the street.
Beauty oft extracts a price
and beauty can be cold –
still, I gladly pay its fare....
There’s always lots of icy streets –
but even on a lonely night –
beauty’s all too rare.....
–Jim Keller
Jan 19, 2004
Draft © 2005 J. Keller All rights reserved. World Rights Reserved.
1 comment:
When I read this poem I get a sweet/sad feeling - the silence that is created by falling snow lends itself to the feeling of loneliness. And yet there is such great beauty in walking through the snow in the night. I waited in line outside a theater in Manhattan to see the film Crouching Tiger and by the time I got inside I had six inches of snow on my head and shoulders. I will always associate the beauty of the snow and being alone in it with the beauty of that film.
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