Justine Zingg Poet Bio

Kettle Lake Road

The snow outside is like fallen leaves,
dead and lifeless,
And also pretty. I wonder sometimes
when I look at our
long, crooked road 
outside the house, it curves
and turns like the spine 
Of an old snake.
it laughs with the wind
and cries with the rain
like I do,
it carries us when we are picking flowers
along the side,
we use it as our personal guide
when I used to walk 
My dog.
The color of it: milk chocolate with a 
bright yellow stripe
reminds me of the color
when it wasn't paved,
I would walk across it barefoot
and feel the hard gravel and soft sand
between my toes
and not be afraid of the red ants
that would sometimes make homes
Around there.
the road to me is like a living time line
I have walked and rode on every inch
and I still don't remember
all of it, because there
is so much I have been through
and so much I haven't.

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