Snowstorm

Never slow, a draft or a breeze

never a warning that it’s coming.

Never that tingle, of a chill to the skin

just the blast of a gale force wind.

The frost that settles into my bones

as my body tenses in response.

The ice that seals up the windows and doors

takes me prisoner in its frozen embrace.

I crawl into the smallest corner of the room

curling myself into a ball.

Muscles tensing, to ward off the cold

constricting the warm flow of blood.

I drift off to sleep for a second or two

and awaken to shattering glass.

The window has broken, the snow and ice

forcing their way into my room.

Seeking me out in the safe place I hide

they are trying to bury me alive.

Filling this room at the blinding speed of light

I can no longer see where I am.

I am covered completely by the weight of the snow

I am paralyzed and freezing and numb.

I have to start moving, despite the odds

this is not the way I will die.

* this was prompted by dVersepoets.com FormForAll – Poetic Devices: Image, Symbol, Metaphor, Allegory*

~It's a little tale about the power of fear~