A Vision

By Joe Conmy

Snow flakes swirling

Web footprints artistic

Alone a robin trots flapping

Oblivious to a face against a window pane

The radio, a distant sound close by

Another hundred out of work.


Along the cliff banks the snow has stopped

Calmness prevails to the distant horizon

He stumbles a cold shiver rising hair


It was harsher back then

A face a ghostly whisper

He returns with hope

The robin rested on the windowsill