Ice pushes again, clear and cold.
I take a step. Slow, definitive. This is my new home. My choice. Ice will not win.
I tread ice. Slip. Regain control again.
Pink and pale bathes me in dusk’s shadow. Butter-colored lights encourage me from distant homes where hugs, laughter, and dreams move about. Walk on, they whisper, we love you.
I step, release inhibition. Look forward. Each step becomes straighter. Harder. I walk into dusk, climb a hill.