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Toronto
A freezing February morning
Snow falling at an angle.
Beautiful, but I suffer.
Stuffing gloved hands into pockets,
Taking off fogged glasses,
Wearing a hood bigger than my head,
Fitting a mask around my face
The layers I packed weren’t enough.
My feet; numb.
As I walk on salted sidewalks
With white on either side.
The roads gray,
and wet as tires
Skid across them.
A city.
Trapped in the shadows.
Of winter.
