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Go out into the crisp morning, out
To the new soft-fallen mask of snow.

Linger on the crunch of perfect steps
Leaving a beeline of perfect prints.

Walk a trapeze artist's tension rope;
Swing above our pride and worries.

Don't look down! Look up into sky
Where your breath weaves patterns.

Find your audience in the bare trees
Shielding over this pocket of winter.

Try to express the world without him,
With just three words and two spaces.

Moisten your lips; try just once more,
For the one person who matters most:

I miss you!

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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Sanjana C. said...
Nov. 13, 2011 at 6:47 pm
I remember you reading this poem before; I particularly like it :]
 
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