january 2026

The month of January 2026 came to an end—
the frigid overcast days icy and plain.

The snowflakes flew,
sticking on the glass,
collecting on the pavement.

The wind blew too,
numbing my face,
numbing my soul.

It all felt out of control,
this month of January 2026.

I stood still
as the world caught fire.

My stocking cap,
my long woolen scarf flailing in the breeze,
my oversized mittens
and my boots crunching in the snow
offered little warmth.

It was as if hell froze over in my town.

Screams could be heard on the streets.
Whistles were shrill.

People were yanked from their vehicles.
People disappeared at work.
They even rushed into their homes.

And then they were gone.

Some lay motionless, in a heap, sleet accumlating on their tennis shoes.

All of the traces left behind in those moments
spoke of a blizzard no one could contain.

A shattered window.
A car door opened.
A purse on the dash.
Car keys left in the ignition.

Signs of icy tendrils growing from within—
tendrils that snake out of the ground,
snaring the victim without notice.

There is no empathy or compassion
in these grey days—
only a dull, robotic thud
of a clock ticking by,
counting the seconds
it took for each person to vanish.

The snowflakes slowly floating past,
swirling and dancing about,
can’t distract from a community put on edge.

This was the month of January 2026.