Blue January
sky, crisp air nips with whipping
wind. My face is cold
Seconds slip past and I feel
this new year sliding away.
Liked this poem? Try Backyard or Rain Pours.
Alina Happy Hansen
Writer in San Francisco, CA
- Crossroads
I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness