Barefoot By Steven Jagnarain

Barefoot

I crawled out of my basement window,

Gasping for air.

Awakened from a horrid dream.

Awakened by the rumbling of leaves,

running across the concreted floor.

I desperately crawled out, on hands and knees.

And as I felt the rush of cold that this winter ground has given me,

I turn to my left and felt the wind seduce my eyes

to water.

I then hesitantly, rose.

My bare and callused sole embraced the ground.

A sharp sense of barren solidity held my weight.

As the cold aroused every nerve in my legs,

it uneased my calves.

I felt the ache of winter.

By Steven Jagnarain