Tag Archives: snow

Same Language

We spoke the same language
with different words
Always the feeling of light shining through.
Words like dust motes on Sunday afternoon.
A cloud of words
waiting for
the gush and scent of rain.

Always the feeling of light shining through.

The soft sounds of his jackets in the entryway
soft as snowfall
A door opening softly inward late at night
the streetlight shining through the dark window
lingering into the gray mornings
those long winters.

The snow covering our words.

Still, always the sense of light shining through.
The headlights through the snowfall
driving home.

We spoke the same language with different words.

The smell of coffee burning,
a dog barking a yard away,
a door being shut outward too quickly,
the goodbye on the other side.

Copyright Kay Winter

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Albuquerque

“When I think of Albuquerque,
I’m glad I left,”
she says.
“I don’t even remember
which red road I took.”

My mind sings something
about another tequila sunrise,
but that song was mine,
when I left LA,
looking for flowers in my hair.

We all leave
for similar reasons,
I think,
singing similar songs
about rearview mirrors
and disappointment.

The guys never understand,
until it is too late, baby,
it’s too late,
and the secret bags
are packed,
and for some goddamn reason,
she’s not answering
when they call
from a noisy bar
in Avalon.

I nod.

I flag the waitress for refills.

I hardly know her,
this woman,
but we are in a diner,
on a dirty street in Minneapolis,
sitting by the window,
and it has started to snow again.

That March snow that is about
giving up and living with discomfort.

“He was into that,” she says,
pushing her face
into a pucker of disgust.
“Not me.”

I missed what he was into,
so cover for myself
by pouring maple syrup
on the corner of my plate
and dragging a bite through it.

Though I have been floundering myself
for a decade or more,
I look through the winter light
at her moss eyes.

“You can do better,” I say.

Though I am utterly
uncertain that she can.

-Copyright Kay Winter

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Early Northern Spring

Feather snow
melts on green-tongued buds
and rust leaves.

Copyright Kay Winter

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If Ever

I know that your eyes
will be filled with light
If ever I chance to see them.

I know your breath will be
fragrant as each bit of earth
you have tasted
If ever our breath shall mingle.

I know your quiet
will be as calm as rain.

Your rest,
as gentle as snowfall.

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To Dream

Tonight I think I will dream
of being in an old room
one we both will remember
from our separate childhoods.

The snow will fall
And you and I will
sit on the sofa
by the large window
and watch it fall,
quiet as our breathing.

Will it be me who takes your hand
or you who takes mine?

“No matter,”
will say the quiet friendship
of the snowfall.

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Suspended (Republished)

There is a small rise in the prairie
Just west of my childhood home

If you walk there on a winter evening
Just before the early dusk
With white snow sky surrounding you
And the white snow on the ground

And if you face into the wind
And you make a small jump
Just so

The wind will hold you suspended

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Ice Road – First published October 2012

I’m walking the ice road tonight
To the center of the frozen lake
You come too
Out of your dark sleep
And rambling brown dreams
We’ll have no need for light other
Than the rising moon
No words but our soft clouds of breath

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Bones

Do not let the snow take you.
I have not yet
numbered the bones of your fingers.

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OctPoWriMo Poem 25 – Ice Road

I’m walking the ice road tonight
To the center of the frozen lake
You come too
Out of your dark sleep
And rambling brown dreams
We’ll have no need for light other
Than the rising moon
No words but our soft clouds of breath

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OctPoWriMo Poem 6 – Forever

I am writing this down now
From a postcard I sent to myself
One day last winter

“Order the flowers yourself
Before the time runs out
Order your tombstone as well
So you can get the Yeats quote you want
No one else will remember that you told them this
Last night, when you were all exhausted, cold, exhilarated”

I remember that night last winter
A night of moonlight and fresh snow
Skiing across the white plains
Like we would travel forever

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