Journey

March 14, 2008
By Max Baker, Clarkston, MI

An unwelcoming evening
Snow falling to the ground
For this moment, the world was at ease
The world was not making a sound
On a journey
Across a white washed road
Just making my way
To my humble abode

Only tennis shoes
Separated my feet from the earth
Frozen toenails, frozen heel
As I watch those snowflakes’ birth
My measly old flannel
Kept my pale, skinny arms warm
It was no puffy, heavy duty coat
But it helped me maintain my form

The only day
My cell phone was dead
No way to communicate
Should have listened
To what my mother said
About taking a sharp turn
On a street covered with ice
So there I was walking for miles
Praying for springtime…
Or summer…
Oh man, would that be nice.


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