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.

Now?

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.