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

image via