Writing

Running Until Out of Breath


First Snow Falls on the City

Running Until Out of Breath

Walking home from skating

Streetlights burnished between the panes

My nose drips a stream of clear

Viscous threads.

My breath smokes in puffs

My lips crack with each exhale

My fingers stick to the wet mittens

Tiny balls of ice at the tips

Cold yet fuzzy.

Snow crunches underfoot

My boots crackle and press, leggings swish—

Cast shadows through dark tree limbs

Sound blanketed in frozen thoughts.

Adagio Micaletti

Winter's Garden Party

Photo courtesy of Nancy.

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4 thoughts on “Running Until Out of Breath

  1. Wonderful! I sometimes miss the calmness that surrounds oneself after a big snowstorm, especially when it is late at night or early in the morning. It’s reassuring in a way I can’t quite find the words for. Thanks for inspiring that thought.

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