Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Fleeing Overcoat

The ground crunched
with frozen answers
to hurried steps;
the wind chased
a fleeing overcoat,
to be left outside
a closing door;
fiery flames roared
at stingy hands
that grabbed its warmth;
an old chair embraced,
when asked to rest
a cold, tired soul.

(previously published in Skyline Literary Magazine)

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

when asked to rest
a cold, tired soul


Nice....

Unknown said...

Yes, the ending is lovely, I agree.

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks Aurora and Christine!

J. Andrew Lockhart said...

it's cold and rainy here and this just fits!

Pat Paulk said...

Thanks Andrew!