Touching Snow

This is either the start of or the end of my next story. I haven't yet decided.

*

You were born to be cold

The shadow floats behind

Always it trembles

Only you are blind

*

To be resented

I can't forgive

To have built your home

But told I've not let you live

*

It will be quiet

Perhaps the snow

Will fall softly

And my heart will glow

*

It's only a day

Maybe it's good

With less to spend

No one says should

*

The river is not frozen

Banks of snow

Call out to me

Icy rocks below

*

I try to keep my promise

But my mind wanders

Sometimes I look out

Far over the water

*

How many years

Have I stared at the sky

Crying and pleading

Wanting to know why

*

I touch the snowbank. It is a crusted, loose snow, the kind that puffs into shapes so beautiful you can't help but admire it. Come too close, however, and the slightest touch shows it for what it is. Hollow.

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