Into the White

the air hit my face like a slap to a helpless child cold and unrelenting like every morning as I leave before the Sun is up I wanted to say something before I started the long drive I turned but could think of nothing perhaps there was nothing to say perhaps it no longer mattered eighteen inches fell last night a Winter Wonderland here in the mountains I may see the children before they go to bed tonight or I may miss them as I often do traffic and that silent road have numbed me snow has begun falling again thick and oddly quiet like the ravings of a mad man on tv with the volume turned down funny how wonderfully creative the mind becomes moments before sanity escapes just as I had nothing to say when I began this typical Tuesday I had no rhyme no verse no connection to reality as I flattened the pedal and disappeared into the white

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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