There is cold
And there is darkness
And there is only I
Belly half full with coffee
Hat
Boots
Jacket
Silence

No cars
No dogs
No bells
Even the birds sleep
silently riding out their
Dreams
on the boughs of the snow
covered trees

You stand there
Under the street light
Watching
They say that every snowflake is
Unique
Special
But with so many millions and billions
what does special mean?

You hear it before you see it
The small car
carefully and slowly
making its way
up the icy road

It stops next to you
Window goes down
“Excuse me, I do not wish to bother
you. We are not from this city.
Do you know
how to get
to the hospital for children?”

You look in the back of the car.
There is the child.
A sad smile.
Accepting her fate, whatever that is.

“Yes, I do know where it is.
And I will tell you exactly
how to get there.”

And maybe
just for a moment
You realize that perhaps
being unique
might mean something
to someone
after all.