Waltz, Footprints in Snow
December 24th, I find footprints in this snow, yours frozen, our broken dreams.
Will your lawyer grinch my wallet, fleece me while I pray to Jesus Christ tonight?
Even the devil stoked in flames has standards, jukebox baby.
Even Jesus suffers with the poor, feels lonely on winter moon-distant planets.
Don’t torture me, let me drive you home in our old Mack dump truck.
Hear these sounds, new records on this old radio.
Care to dance a new waltz,
renew, no mirages, just free, no chains —
or drift back to those old vintage footprints —
fog covering old snow?
Michael Lee Johnson lived 10 years in Canada during the Vietnam era and is a dual citizen of the United States and Canada. Today he is a poet, freelance writer, amateur photographer, and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois. Michael has been published in more than 1062 new publications; his poems have appeared in 38 countries; and he edits/publishes 10 poetry sites. You can find 183 of his poetry readings here.