The Approaching Storm

I was born in December
One day past my father's birthday
(no present, I).
4:00 am in St.Thomas Elgin General Hospital,
I came kicking and screaming.
Somewhere along the way,
I stopped kicking and screaming.
Somewhere along the way I learned
the hard way
that dreaming is just dreaming
and "you gotta grow up son"
and
the pure ache of a nightmare gasping for breath,
having only a window without a curtain
to turn to for comfort
at 4:00am.
I am boy of winter,
turning up my collar to the wind,
tears freezing on cheek,
walking in search of hearth and home,
moving.
Always moving.
Always losing my way.
Retracing the footprints in the snow,
I have finally come to the clearing
where I parted from myself that day
six years ago.
Where I watched myself walk away,
no longer braced against the approaching storm.