Photo of the Day: When the Snow Flies

March Storm, Thursday, March 7, 2012

I was walking to the train late last night as the snows fell, the dark swallowing up my shadow, blurring me into one of the faceless mass of humanity in the City, being so grateful for this place - New York City - where you can blend into near invisibility. The March snow came down and the words swam up out of my subconscious. Better poets than me say it best.

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December*;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before;
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

~ Paul Simon

 *or March even