Contributor: Richard Schnap

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I hear the wind
And think of a has-been chanteuse
Singing to an empty room

I see the rain
And think of an old widower
Dropping tears on his wedding photos

I watch a fire
And think of a laid-off worker
Receiving his last unemployment check

I listen to a siren
And think of a middle-aged divorcee
Pouring whiskey on her broken heart

But then I find a flower
And think of a young child
Who still believes in Santa Claus

As I smell its scent
And think of a rare perfume
Whose fragrance never quite goes away


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Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.