A rigid night makes us all look like smokers;
the short drags of thin air collecting and tiring
us. Causing coughing bouts. But not me.
I took my time, slowly sauntering away,
my destination: a movie, two lovely ladies
and my smooth path glistening with slippery
smooth ice.
Arriving when I did was key; still early but
more late than my company. I took the long
way around, so she (one in particular of the two)
would see my approach. That slow saunter,
the cool, collective puffs, and of course my
glistening path.
Dressed to impress, my new long black overcoat
draped dashingly down, fluttering flatteringly
around me. And as my journey came to an end
I reached the portal of that glistening path,
my boot slid, slippery smooth, out and up.
Never in my life have I prayed, but in that moment
my mind sent a message to God to be vertical.
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