The wind’s icy breath
is painting flowers
on the windows,
snowflakes sparkle
on your hair,
our words hover
like ghosts, faceless, transparent...
as we step inside the crowd
searching for warmth
and entertainment…
alone – together,
seeing the others
laugh and dance,
wish we could share
their simple joy and fun,
and understand
the magic inside that aura…
yet our own fear
holds us in the chair,
shy and reserved,
watching, smiling, applauding,
yes, we want to join in…
if there weren’t
this feeling of separation,
pieces lost inside the puzzle,
staring over our invisible fence
lonely strangers,
waiting for an invitation…


Sybille(Sydney) Krivenko GISC2052924 2007