Your eyes constantly smear
the edges of my heart.

It's hard to peer over snowy
rooftops to look at the stars
when all my eyes look for is
you.

---

The last day of  A River of Stones! It's been a journey. To make an observation of my day, to really pay attention...it took a lot more than playing around with pretty words. Most of my small stones aren't very good in my eyes. But it forced me to really look. I know I didn't write everyday on time. But everyday, I thought about my stone. At times, it was all I can think about. especially when I wanted to forget all of the chaos of my life. Just knowing that I made a promise to myself to write everyday was better than the days where writing is the furthest thing from my mind. It reminds me of my commitment to writing, to poetry that I have made for the rest of my life. It's like a marriage. You have to put in work in order for it to work. But it's also fun and sometimes, you can fall in love all over again.

What really surprised me was how often snow came up in my stones. Obviously, with all the snow that we have been having in New York, it's hard to get away from. But I actually hate snow. A childhood accident has caused a lifelong fear. But having to write a small stone during this season has made me look at snow in a different light. I still dislike snow, but I appreciate its beauty.

I want to thank Fiona Robyn for putting out this challenge. My eyes are a little bit more aware of what's in front of me. And it started my year off on the write foot...hahaha!

There will be more stones in my future.

At 2AM, I walk around my block
nicknamed Snow Town for this season.
The hushed quiet, the stillness
of the blue crisp night, the only place snowy
ice walls make me feel safe.

For a few hours, the temperature
had a fever, making me sweat
it out for you.

Snow falls from the roof onto her head - she laughs.

tired of all the white.
maybe if snow fell in
rainbows...

In the quiet of the storm
I broke virgin
ground, looking for
familiar hard, dirty
steps to balance on.

the sun keeps teasing
us with slightly elevated
temperatures and wet sidewalks.

i know there's a snow storm planned
for tonight. i heard mother
nature making a deal with
meteorologists.

my fingers are red
yet my blood is hiding,
dipping low
from the blistering cold.

if the temperatures keep
                                      dropping
and the snow piles
                                   keep rising, we are
in risk of being buried
       in a temporary tundra.

night wanderings
have sharpened
my step. only once
did i
almost slip.