The howling wind batters my window pane,

Lacey white curtains flail, dancing.

I awaken from a deep slumber,

Sweet dreams of lost love.

Rushing to shut out the violent storm,

Something odd catches my eye.

A young man in the street,

He stares up at me.

Standing silent in the soft white snow,

Holding in his hands a toy truck.

The cold snow pelts him,

But he doesn’t move.

Wiping away the fog with my sleeve,

I see the young man clearly.

Staring into the storm,

I shed a frosty tear.

I run outside into the icy abyss,

Nothing on but a gown.

But he isn’t there,

He’s gone again.

Nikki Read