The Snow Gently Listens

I thought the snow would tell me something

as I laid there with arms and legs stretched out.

My nose red against the blue of sky

and breath, white wisps lost in fallen flakes.

 

I thought the snow would tell me

anything

about my body

and her place in this world

or the world

and its place in my body.

 

I thought the snow would tell me

about the freeze of the past

or the thaw of the future;

 

I thought the snow would tell me

‘it’s alright’

or ‘You’re okay’

or even ‘there is nothing to be afraid of.’

 

But instead she said

nothing at all.

 

She laid with me as I told myself

all the things I already knew

and created the things that I didn’t.

 

All she did was gently add

to the quiet depth

a single flake

at a time.

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