This particular
white Christmas is granular,
icy pellets building

up on roads and paths,
endangering humankind.
In my anorak

I listen to it.
I walk like a duck, funny
from cracked car windows.

I fear falling. Up
and down are never the same.
Between my slow steps,

I breathe. The counter-
point of soft breath and crunch grounds
me this holiday.

Author: Tom D'Evelyn

Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at and other sites.

One thought on “Anorak”

  1. We had ice all day yesterday. Last night I heard rain falling in a loud voice. The Stars were shining brightly, twinkling little fairy lights. I stopped to wonder…how can this be?…even so, the vision of a morning sparkling in the sun struck me as unbelievable.

    Sent from my iPad



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