Streaks of Snow

The old man looked into a mirror and thought of years lost--

of the memories wrapped in chains

of a murmuring heart in a jail

The half way house was home

He pulled a donated cap over his eyes--

--the first time in thirty years

He put on a donated overcoat and fitted his hands in gloves--

--the first time in thirty years

The weatherman said tonight expect a Christmas snow

The parole officer wanted him back at 8.

Two hours for him to walk...and maybe sit on a park bench

Maybe for the first time in 30 years he could watch snow fall...

see it cover the hard city ground,

touch it softly on his shoulders,

feel it melt on his open tongue 

7:30pm and still no snow

His legs were tired 

He gave himself twenty minutes to walk back to the house

8pm and he was safe...

He closed the door and signed in,

and walked a flight of stairs to his room

He looked in the mirror, his cheeks were red...

with a quick wrist he removed his cap,

took off his coat

hung them neatly in the closet...they might inspect

He looked out his window and lifted his eyes...

for the first time in thirty years he saw streaks of snow and heard a female voice sing to him from far away

That was the story of his night...half a life and miles of distant snow