1-11-93

The future holds a dark spot for me, beware!  Everything is alright, kinda bright.  Wednesday, that's the day.  Maybe.  It's nice when, not one, but two angels descend from the heavens to give me that light.  Oh, child, 'twas nice. Lovely, lovely.  They wanted me to walk with them.  They want to see me again.  They.  They?  Yow!  Keep moving, keep active.  Everything on vacation is better that way.

      As the wary flakes make their way,
      down to the ground, awaiting the day,
      They mass upon each other, hectic yet true,
      'Till the sky alights with a greyish hue.
      A blizzard, they said, starting tonight,
      One is lucky to fall into the light.
      "It was sweet," he said, "nothing pushed nor hoped,
      Simply to our respective blocks we sloped."
      His smile and wink show true heart,
      These two with him recognize it as they part.
      He has something nice, new, different for them,
      They both recede, remembering, hoping to see again,
      his bearded face, familiar in a sense,
      the laughter he brought carries them through the                                   
           flakes, now dense.

The tunneled light was dimmer now.  They had lifted their hearts so high when they had first spotted it.  Now they held on to hope, uncompromising. They continued down the path they believed.  They hoped and hoped it would be as they dreamed.  But one among them began to fall into what was known as reality to some.  He turned back, and doomed them all.