The Color of Melting Snow
By Alena Chen
The glow of the moon
glimmers through the window,
a soft haze surrounds the bed
where it was once shared by two
but now feels empty with one.
The sheets rumpled on one side.
A vast plateau of smoothed out sheets
where her hands constantly grapple for
the hand that once held hers.
They holds another.
Winter has ended and all of the
snow has receded, leaving only the concrete.
It’s impossible for her to remember who
she was before the steady hum of snow storms.
Storms that caused no destruction
but ripped through her.
Like a car on impact.
Was it all a dream?
Were there days of bone chilling blizzards?
Days of warm beds.
Cold is all that remains.
The snow has melted but
Winter still grips her.
You catch the train into the city,
far away from the life that was once yours.
The window is still frosted
but Spring has planted flowers in you.
Winter is over
and the snow has melted.