The Cold

I have a sudden and unexplainable urge to walk out the door, and into a blizzard.

that scent….. that sound…..

It was a memory of Penfold and Maggie that stirred it,

that dirt road intersection of zero significance,

before the war on terror.

Why was I even there, that day?

I wish I could recall the reason, if there even was one.

Sure it’s a bucket of bolts, but you have your warm jacket just in case,

and the sun is out,

and your heroes are all still alive and well…

Think I’ll park for a while and stretch, the drive has been long.

Pace the empty road, and smoke;

Worry not, for that isn’t cancer flowing from your mouth,

it’s just the bright breath of a careless winter’s day.