Homesick (Brooklyn, New York 1995)

As I walk with heavy boots
Laced with late winter slush
On these deserted sidewalks
I pull my coat closer to my chin
Clutch my tattered gloves tighter
I still shiver!
The pale moon peeks with reluctance
Only to give me a hunched sullen shadow
And the old elm trees lining the streets
Bowing to console me, lay frozen, leafless.
My breaths are slow, shallow
As if to ward away the windchill
Seeping through stoic brownstones.
So, I gather my coat even closer
Clutch my gloves even tighter
But never ever conquer the cold
Creeping thru my brown-skinned core
Yearning for the warmth of a sun
That only shines
In those very far
Far fareastern skies.