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Stuck in the Snow
May 12, 2016
Snow pelted the man;
He wanted to slow,
But instead he ran.
"I've got a ways to go."
The man clung to each frosted breath,
Praying per beat.
It was a bit of a stretch,
But he wasn't gonna be meat.
The cold grew colder,
The man slowing,
His wrinkles felt older,
The sky kept weeping.
He falls to his knees,
His head hung,
You can barely hear his pleas;
As he tries to remember when he was young.
He lights his last match,
Fires his last flare.
He hears the dispatch,
And sees the glare.
© Thomas S., Portville, NY
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I wrote this for school, as a poem to follow a theme from the book "A Long Way Gone" by Ishmael Baeh, the theme I chose was survival.