Go, if you must

The bracing blue blur of snowy twilight,
Breaks dimly into your vision, forcing the door
When stepping out, into the bloom of evening’s grasp.
Frigid fingers fumble for keys, locking
What you have borrowed behind, a mechanical spell
Against honest thieves. Shuffling slow a bit,
You catch a slip on ice slick, then steel your legs below,
Holding the pavement, with the vestigial grip
Of your toes. Foward: What lies on the other side,
Of the dying day’s light, in the downward descent
into a winter’s night?
Only God, Fate, and you
If you survive, alone,
Know.

© SXT 2025