Seasons

Notes: NaPoWriMo Day 4. I’ve been tied up with homework lately so a bit tight on time; I free-versed it for this one, but kept it relatively short. The prompt for this poem was to write about the month which you believe is the cruelest. I wrote about the month of January and examined the living conditions of the average middle class American in the first half of the poem versus the living conditions of the homeless in the latter half of the poem.

 

From inside, crystals of snow latch to the window panes

Smoke billows from chimneys up into the night sky

And in each brick home, the fire casts a warm ember glow

Leftovers from a hearty meal are packed into the fridge

Laughter and stories, shared amongst all

The holiday stress has passed without a doubt

A new year, a fresh start, it’ll all work out

 

January can’t be the cruelest of months,

 

But outside, flurries of snow gather like dust on the street

Tucked into the nooks and crevices of closed storefronts

Lie men, women and children

They are wrapped under cardboard blankets and shivering inside

Their shadows crawl onto the sidewalks chasing the yellow street lights

Yet they remain invisible to passersby

For the season of giving is of no longer concern

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