Musings of an Italian-American Catholic wife, mother, and writer

Musings of an Italian-American Catholic wife, mother, and writer

Friday, January 13, 2017

A Lesson in the Snow

Cruel branches grabbing,
holding me back.
Bitter, piercing cold
burning my chest.

But still I run . . .
I must, I need to!
The snow captures my footsteps,
evidence of my journey.

Finally, I stop at a clearing
while my heart runs on.
There. There she is.
Timeless for all the world.

I stand before her
waiting, searching.
The snow gently falls,
one flake at a time.

Just me and her
and the snow.
A snowflake on her cheek,
a tear on mine.

A tolling bell
breaks the silence,
and gathering from her warmth
I turn to go.

Before me stand my footsteps. . .
like a lesson.

Boldly I step aside,
creating a new pattern in the snow.

*from the files of very bad poetry by Bia

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