It’s quiet out here
in the snow
the morning sky still a heavy blue.
It’s peaceful here
for a few moments.
I think of the screaming
I heard in my head last night,
it doesn’t scare me anymore.
It just adds to a sadness
how I’m irrevocably changed
and it makes me miss you.
You never disappointed me–I do that myself.
How would you look at me here? Now, in the snow?
How would you reach me
through the screaming? Would you even try
I can hear the snow settle down
in the quiet bed of winter,
here now, when my mind is quiet
for just a few moments.
I wish for your hand sometimes. Your voice, your smell.
When I am sick I want you
but people leave it seems and I write
only for myself
but a young part of me
likes to believe you’re still here
I hear you in the snow
how gentle and quiet
I want to confide in you
that I wasn’t brave
I was cornered
and I have no faith in myself anymore
maybe I never did
I’m writing a poem-letter to you,
my dead father, who didn’t believe I was yours
but you can’t come refute it now
I can make of you as I want
and aside from you
leaving and dying
I just want to pretend
that the hand I imagine in mine
when I fall down
is yours, you–loving me
enough to help me.
6 thoughts on “Bed of Winter”
dang…felt…the longing to have them care enough to pick you up…the snow makes for a nice backdrop as well…i like to go out and stand in its hush…
My dear, you are brave and strong to put your heart out that way in the beautiful bed of snow for all to see. There are so many tragic elements to this and my heart cries for each of them. If my time machine was working, I’d go back and fix people like your father so that I wouldn’t have to use the time machine to help people like you. Obviously, you never deserved this, and there is loss all around your world. However (small, but important, consolation), this has only made you shine more and more in my eyes. You survive (because you have a choice to the contrary) and you create (because you also have a choice to the contrary) and I am richer because of you, and therefore you are an unwitting hero to me. Sending you a loving firm embrace. Your pal, Moskowitz
Such heartfelt emotions in these lines…I had the feeling of an unrequited parental love…I was left with an undercurrent feeling of sadness.
Achingly sad, yet, luminous in your introspection.
The lines, “It’s peaceful here
for a few moments.” -are what I pray you encounter more of, on your path to healing, Amy.
oh thank you Heather, glad you read it!
These lines come right inside.
when reading I kept thinking of a good friend
suddenly lost his loved one
while she made a short city trip to Spain
and the snow, it shows its white cloth
it comes and goes
and returns some day, for sure