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