“Argyle Polaroid”

Late night walk to corner store
the air is cold, but streets are quiet
snow in March
wearing his argyle socks
not sure why that makes me happy
moon peeks from between gray clouds
and for a moment, I am lost
I am nothing beneath the peripheral splendor
“Walk” sign flashes and I recall
tonight’s plans of old movies
blanket, chess, and I
wonder if the VCR still works
hands are numb, pain sets in
but I smile, because
at least I have ice cream
with peanut butter cups
and his old socks
to keep me warm.

© M. Black, 2016 All rights reserved.


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