And the Snow Fell

And the Snow Fell

Elizabeth Horton-Newton

It was cold.

The snow fell for days

and coated the world with frozen silence.

We played in the snow

and flakes clung to your beard,

tantalizing, tempting drops inviting a kiss.

The glare of the noonday sun on the snow

blinded me to your faults.

In the still evenings

we would snuggle under piles of blankets,

nursing cups of steaming cocoa

and you told me of dreams that remain fantasies.

I believed I loved you.

Maybe I did.

I hoped you loved me.

Maybe you did.

Our breath would make white balloons in the crisp winter air

and carry our words away to the gods.

Did they laugh at our youth?

Did they know our destiny?

We cooked out in the yard,

snow crunching beneath our shoes as the grill crackled

and the flames danced.

I poured a libation of grape juice to gods we didn’t believe in

and we laughed at our poverty.

Winter is coming again;

her arms open in a welcoming embrace of forgetfulness.

Where are you now?

Do you still like chocolate and sweet hot tea?

I can smell the cigar smoke

and remember the smoke curling around your head like a misty crown.

What kingdom do you rule now and is your touch still gentle?

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