A Poem On A Snowy Day

Autistic Idol

A dark idol looking down

he stood above it all,

barely fluttered by the breeze

of life scurrying about.

With neither a nod or eye movement

of his eight-year-old face

to greet family and acquaintances,

Nick Blair was autistic.

Sometimes, not often mind you,

when I came to talk

and stimulate his mind,

gently pry the lid off of

darkness and self exile,

as a struggling

to understand

Psychology student,

I was awarded with

a gentle smile.

A brief change

in the granite like surface

of his still and gentle

little boy face,

made me smile back.

The brief ray of light

made me think;

here is the face of God,

a dark idol looking down