Noir-Style Winter Poem

Through thick snow that thins with every step
Our hero moves with strange purpose.

Perhaps a dame has bid him come.
Perhaps a crime is there for him to solve.

The silence of the streets don't know.

All that is known is the heavy weight
Of a gun snug in his right hand
That makes his weight shift just a bit
To that direction, making his
Right footprint deeper than the left.

Tomorrow, when the cops and dicks
Come upon the scene, they won't know this
For the snow will have filled in his
Footprints. And just like everything else
This too will remain a mystery.



Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 89 times
Written on 2026-01-19 at 09:48

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Marie Cadavieco The PoetBay support member heart!
Noir indeed. Whilst reading this, I imagined Humphrey Bogart, collar of his fairly dirty and wrinkled raincoat turned up, belt tied in a messy knot, fedora/trilby hat drawn low over his face, stalking his quarry.

Thank you for this oh-so-vivid word picture! I particularly like the line "through thick snow that thins with every step". I always used to get upset when I was a child, to see how my passing (with childish awe in my heart) had marred the pristine scene.
2026-01-28