K
Kat
Guest
1
I like to ride my bicycle through my neighborhood
Tires smoothing down the pale, cracked sidewalk
Glancing at people’s open windows, curtains rolled back
A quick picture, a window framed snapshot of their lives
A young girl dancing and twirling in her pale pink room
An elderly couple on the couch sipping from coffee mugs
A little toy poodle running from room to room like a maniac
Ordinary, seemingly perfect, picturesque lives
Funny how everyone wants people to see them that way
Funny how people put on a show when the curtains are open
When yelling starts, or someone’s crying, the curtains are always closed
Like in a movie, when they snap them shut with a ching and a hush
Quickly, heaven forbid someone see an imperfect moment
I like to ride my bicycle through my neighborhood
Tires smoothing down the pale, cracked sidewalk
Glancing at people’s open windows, curtains rolled back
Guessing what’s happening behind the closed ones
2
When snow first falls
It is beautiful
White flakes collecting
Creating a sheet of white
That covers the impurities
Of the world, if only for
Just one moment
For after night comes day
And with day comes life
Children out of school
Playing in the snow
Adults scraping ice
Off of their windshields
Cursing under their breath
All the while the sun
Blazing overhead
Slowly kills the beauty
Of the pure, innocent snow
I like to ride my bicycle through my neighborhood
Tires smoothing down the pale, cracked sidewalk
Glancing at people’s open windows, curtains rolled back
A quick picture, a window framed snapshot of their lives
A young girl dancing and twirling in her pale pink room
An elderly couple on the couch sipping from coffee mugs
A little toy poodle running from room to room like a maniac
Ordinary, seemingly perfect, picturesque lives
Funny how everyone wants people to see them that way
Funny how people put on a show when the curtains are open
When yelling starts, or someone’s crying, the curtains are always closed
Like in a movie, when they snap them shut with a ching and a hush
Quickly, heaven forbid someone see an imperfect moment
I like to ride my bicycle through my neighborhood
Tires smoothing down the pale, cracked sidewalk
Glancing at people’s open windows, curtains rolled back
Guessing what’s happening behind the closed ones
2
When snow first falls
It is beautiful
White flakes collecting
Creating a sheet of white
That covers the impurities
Of the world, if only for
Just one moment
For after night comes day
And with day comes life
Children out of school
Playing in the snow
Adults scraping ice
Off of their windshields
Cursing under their breath
All the while the sun
Blazing overhead
Slowly kills the beauty
Of the pure, innocent snow
