The Winter Street

The winter street speaks...
If you stand still enough to hear it.

The wan Seattle sun sets into
a frigid January night -
no one stays outside long.

Get off the bus, walk briskly those two blocks home.
Park the car, sprint to the door.
The dog gets a quick walk -
No lingering trip around the lake tonight.

But the winter street is out and about.
Icy lamps casting frozen diamonds in the grass
Telling tales of hidden treasure, if you listen hard enough.

Skeletal trees make brittle arches towards the sidewalk
And cars, like silent sentinels growing a moss of frost.
The winter street offers secrets
Inviting any who catch its whispers
To step into this quiet mystery of freezing dark.

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