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Replying to a comment on:
Winter Lands: I (Free verse) by http://bandgeek Another winter, another home.
Last winter,
crisped through plowed lots to the bus stop.
Artificial gaps in the snowbank, two feet across,
served as meager public sidewalk.
Uneven openings were trampled and kicked
through the spattered gray bank
next to bus route signs to expedite entry
into a warm, musky haven of public transportation.
Hoped for a few inches of fresh snow weekly
to make soot blackened snow mountains âcleanâ.
Not caring that come spring,
warmer rains would reveal many horrors
to unwitting pedestrian archeologists.
Forgotten, but never lost;
layers of salty sand, styrofoam coffee cups,
bus transfer tickets, pink frozen vomit,
faded mittens, condom wrappers.
In that land,
reassurance glowed every half hour.
Plowtrucksâ yellow lights flickered
into apartment rooms.
Distant scraping sounded
a friendly reminder:
the safety of a city
with parking bans.
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