Tag Archives: running

Mother

Was it the Spring;
verdant grass and bicycles,
retreating snow drifts
running?

Was it the Summer;
sun kissed skin peeling like wallpaper,
snow cones and ice cream,
the school year a rising heatwave far
away?

Was it the Autumn;
piles of leaves from dead trees,
restless evenings in costume,
warm drinks and warmer friends,
arriving, though we know not where
from?

Was it the Winter;
snow forts and ice skates,
long sober hills on steel sleds,
Styrofoam clouds of frozen breath,
a mumbling fire near a warm bed?
Was it any one thing or was it
everything?

Temperance

Nostrils carved of ice,
the breath slicing through tender lungs,
attacking the warm muscle.

My calves caught
in the maw of my jeans,
like a dogs rubber toy,
no wrenching
or twisting
able to free it;
two layers deep,
in a sandwich of warmth –
hastily readied for the journey,
a school far away at its end.

So I ran.
Slammed the door behind me,
landing on the snow,
not in.

Everything an autumn leaf isn’t,
but landing as they all the same.
I ran, holding my weight like a skirt,
caught in a room of carnivorous formality,
and the snow permitted me upon it.
Having had two days of blistering cold,
beneath bright clear skies.
It was kind and unforgiving.

That threat – I knew.
I ran, and thankfully
never broke through,
I was untouchable.