The Fantasy

The snow is gently falling on the avenue,
A crowd is slowly forming at the rendezvous,
Strangers ill at ease,
Have a drink or two or three,
And everything is gone,
But THE FANTASY....

Icicles are clinging to the frozen trees,
Frozen fingers fumbling for the car keys,
The radio is loud,
They cannot hear a sound,
And everything is gone,
But THE FANTASY....

Everything for an embrace,
Everything for a stranger's face....

Faces of the statues lined up in the park,
Faces of the strangers heading off to work,
Breath turns into steam,
Frozen streets turn into steam,
And everything is gone,
But THE FANTASY....


© Mark Newstetter