by Angel L. Villanueva
One early day I walked a path
A storm had topped with snow.
Though winter lessened in her wrath,
The wind that traced the aftermath
Had slapped my face with ice in tow—
Her wintry grip to show.
I heard a voice amid the gale
As winter slowed her dance.
It echoed through the falling hail
And sounded like a mournful wail,
Which freed me from a frigid trance.
I chanced a wary glance.
I heard it say, “Forget the past,
The pages that have turned.
The ink has faded; time has passed.
Your holding on will only cast
Continued pain you have not earned.
But save what you have learned.”
I weighed the words, then looked around
To share my thankful glee.
Despite my search, no one was found.
I looked toward the snowy ground;
No footprints 'round that I could see,
But ones left there by me.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Angel L. Villanueva is an American poet. Born in Puerto Rico, he currently resides in Massachusetts. Although he has occasionally written in free verse, Angel prefers to compose poetry in meter and rhyme, favoring traditional forms such as the sonnet, quatrain, rubaiyat, and couplet.
