View from the Platform
Laysha Collins
waiting for the subway
in the gray of Grorudstasjonen
they file past me
"Hi-ho"ing off to school
cheeks burning bright
over teeth that are too big
some sled down the hills
on rocket red saucers
or streamlined steel runners
the slopes are vanilla
with rainbow sprinkles of
caps with pom-poms
and ear muffs
laughs and squeals echo off
the frigid cold
in puffs of frosty breath
tiny footprints from dandelion yellow galoshes
turn into pathways
run over into slush
by hurried, busy grownups
who fail to notice
that colors are so vivid
against a Norwegian winter
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