Nose running, eyes tearing
I walked to the subway stop on 8th.
Cold and clear, the street lights
Break through the night.
Coming up to 7th and Broadway,
Dreading the next corner.
Wool cap secure, gloves pulled tight, ear-muffs in place,
I knew a challenge awaited me.
Last Tuesday night the malicious god
That occupies this corner
Caught me with a blast of Arctic air.
Cost me a hat and half of my loose-leaf.
New York’s finest street dust
Invaded my nose and eyes.
I thought I heard the wind laugh
As it released me to the subway stairs.
I know, Lincoln had it harder.
125 miles to school and back,
Bears and -250 degree temperature.
But did he have a wind chill factor?
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