On a cold and snowy morning It’s been nearly fifty yearssince that cold, snowy morning—when I woke for workand went to the windowto see what the night delivered. It was 5 a.m.,and Tenth Avenue glistenedbeneath the glowof ice-laden streetlamps—hanging, spear-like,filled with light. Snow had fallen through the night,leaving the house as cold as a cave;the … Continue reading 5 a.m.