The Snow and Me and My Flat Tire – An Original Poem

As the snow swirls around in the atmosphere

I am feeling the same

Out of control

At the mercy and whim of everything around me

Except myself

I see why some choose spells

I understand

I see why some kiss the virgin around their neck

I understand

I see why some hang the symbol of torture on their doorposts

I get it

This life is out of our hands

Despite my best efforts

I understand

I get it

What should I do?

What can I do but “Leave Room”

I can’t control what I can’t control

The only thing that I control is the space before me

What is behind me has already been done and can’t be undone

The flat tire can’t be “un-flattened”

There’s nothing I can do but leave room for repair or replacement

The past is the past, it can’t be undone

Just let sleeping dogs sleep and move on

Whether you let life swirl all around or try to capture it

You won’t change it

Might as well enjoy it

Might as well savor it

Might as well compliment yourself

On rolling with it

Be the best snow flake you can be

Since it’s all you can be today

Sure, you are spinning and turning

You are also catching the light

You are also lilting upon the wind

You are also one of a kind being yourself

In this moment it’s okay to be snow

Later you may be mud

Later you may be ice

Later you may be black ice

Right now you are snow

Just be that.

Did you know that I published 5 books of poetry, one photo book and a book on how to back up an 18 wheeler? I did… They are on Amazon now. They are priced the way they are as an ongoing fundraising campaign for a non profit I started named after my youngest son who was killed in Seattle, Washington on June 30th, 2013. His name was Joseph Dwayne Albert. He was hard to manage, and difficult to understand. He was a true artist. He was mistreated and misunderstood.

“Lay with fido, get up with fleas…”
Tommy Albert, Jr.

“Artists love fido and they accept the “fleas” too easily and far too long.”
Coletha Yvette Albert

Artists are difficult. Artists are brilliant. Artists feel more deeply than others. Artists are very stubborn. When an artist is lost, so is an entire universe. That entire world is extinguished when they “leave” especially in the way Joseph did. He was totally tortured and mistreated in every way, physically and mentally. I couldn’t reach him. I couldn’t help him. Why? Because I am broke and sometimes broken. I still am…

My YouTube channel is growing but at a snail’s pace. https://youtube.com/@MsColetha?si=hBQYwQ2kLgMINHQE

My TikTok is growing at tadpoles squiggles and wiggles. https://www.tiktok.com/@sissyalbert?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc

My books haven’t sold in a while, but that’s how being an author goes. (When you are NOT J.K. Rowling or Stephen King that is.) https://www.amazon.com/stores/Coletha%20Albert/author/B00LNNCU0Q

My WordPress isn’t getting any press either… sigh…

What to do?

Keep going. That’s what.

I love to write. I love to sing. I love writing poetry and taking pictures. I love love. I love my family. I love my life. It’s been a journey filled with all the aspects of any valuable jewels. Even in darkness, my life has reflected “the light”.
Coletha Yvette Albert