Remember the way it
Felt in your lungs that winter?
The harshness of it all
As you took in the frozen air?
Remember how it
Would tighten up your throat
As you gasped it down, but
Once it was down it stopped feeling
Remember the taste of my mouth
As I let my thoughts
Go tumbling into yours?
They were thoughts I couldn’t say out loud
But thoughts that I still loved to think
And still do love to think.
Yes, it was a good winter,
One full of ice crystals that would
Form on the windows overnight,
Blocking out the world beyond
With lacey patterns and fractured light.
It was the winter when Reality died
And was buried under four feet
Of powdery snow that looked
Like it should be soft and billowy
But, like all snow, was not.
We didn’t go out there much.
We forgot about Reality for a while.
I would pour us each a glass of
Cheap red wine and we would sip
And sip until the stars outside
Would show up on our ceiling
And the fire in the fireplace
Began to doze off.
But when the snow began to melt
We found it out there, revived,
Lying in a puddle of March slush,
Taking deep, slow breaths of cool air,
Sucking on our dreams like a newborn.
– Jenna Bernstein