Roses bloomed from cracks in the drywall.
I listened to new voices outside the gate.
Clouds were painted on the windows
and the sky was tinted grey.
Flowers opened and you stepped inside
where you had to pay.
You dropped down low in three feet of snow
and you began to pray.
The storm came fast
flakes made of glass
cut your face.
The winds took your breath away.
New voices outside the door
demanded you prepare
the storm is always there.
Roses bloomed in doorways
vines snaked along the walls.
Everything wanted heat inside
and they caused you to fall.
The storm drives the cold things in
and it will drive you far away.
J.S.