The "group poem" you are to fix for next class...

The When Window

when window frost covers my tongue

a feeling of concern crosses my mind

striking like high heels beneath red lights

during a dark, dark night

and when the warmth fills my eyes

I see it all in a haze

those red lights gleaming

bright and hard 

winter light through a window

harsh on these tired eyes

and suddenly I catch my breath

the forced air stings my lungs

beautiful ice crystals

climb my throat and dye me red

hard and harsh, the red window frost crackles

spreads from my fingertips

chills my core 

rattles the pane

brings memories of a red and cold winter

that seems constant at my core and yet,

despite the cold, the dark, the pain,

I can cut the sinking

life emerges in a burst of heat

and I wonder what brought me here

and why

I wake up wondering

images dancing on the edge of my mind

holding onto, letting go

seeking a special warm night

that rocks steady my soul

my life, a question for pensive monks

a question for a wandering drunk

visual, like the frost on my tongue

from a cold Prince George winter

I lay there, unable to move

fishes nibble on it. . .