I walk along
crunching the dry brown
of Austin, underfoot.
The sun is high
and reflecting off
the blue
sky and Christmas
hung upon Cactus.
I think back on Montreal
and hope that Marlene
is staying warm.
There, it is snowing.
Most everywhere else
that I could have been
by now
is covered in at least
a foots worth.
I don’t know where
I belong,
but I know it isn’t
here for too long.

written on 12/22/2013 by: Matt Kane