Winter Wish

by Thomas Griffin

If only I could throw myself
into this black sleet
rushing down street, hugging the lip
of the curb, dashing down
the hungry mouth of the culvert
hurtling through sudden darkness
into the roar of a thousand other streams
fleeing this steely-eyed
November in New England—
run to the open arms of the ocean
the hope-filled future
of some other season.


Category: Poetry, SNHU Creative Writing