Mister Linky said “expiration in 6 hours”
but I was piled in a 6-foot blanket of work.
The waiting room was filled with patients:
many suffering from falls on the ice
as they failed to escape their homes.
“Ah, relax into the snow,” I told myself.
“Enjoy the crystal souls floating into your life
— whispers from the cold sky —
and offer them your warmth.”
“Enjoy your shut-in life, and give back that which
others have shared with you for decades:
patience and love.”
We were all finally able to leave our clinic
and now Mr. Linky tells me there is only one hour left
to reflect on inclement distractions.
by Sabio Lantz, February 2015
Prompt: Marina Sofia, at D’Verse Poets, tells us that “for today’s poetics I would like to imagine or remember a time when you were snowed in, iced out or in some other perilous winter situation (whatever the season you are currently experiencing).”