Defining Winter

 

It is only
cat-like as it enters

the cemetery, something
skeletal

and de-veined
as it exits.

We spent time removing

corn husks and drove down
dirt roads. Our first winter

together, it was two days

into the season
before you told me

you loved me.

Four winters later, I admitted
the photographer

forced me to remove

my clothes before taking
the picture.

I had to explain the grip

of his hands and how warm
they were. How I couldn’t breathe

the cold air

of that room.
How four years after that,

both of our mothers

would die,

one of unnatural causes.

 

 

Share

Leave a Comment