We Left Your Wheelchair in the Snow
From a recent venture into Texas snow
We leave your wheelchair behind to be buried in fresh, powdery snow so your numb feet can feel the frosted ground/I am too embarrassed to tell you that your paralyzed mass is too heavy for me to be lugging around in negative four degrees/You stop me by patting on my neck/We look down to see white between your toes./ /You stop shivering and look straight up/I am still staring at your toes, waiting for them to wiggle—waiting for the big toe to organize a revolution and jump from the snow into my warm breast pocket/They don’t wiggle, I can’t move anymore, now, I’m starting to imagine what face you’re making, I hope it’s not the it’s okay, you tried your best face—the one with the slight smirk and placating eyes/ My throat tightens because my chest is too still--
bitter needles hold my cheek.
you managed to push me in the snow while I was waiting for your toes to move.
I hear your throat-ripping cackle/ I am awake again.
I learn that you cannot numb numbness.
About the Creator
Mark Perkins
Mark Perkins is a college sophomore, at Stephen F. Austin State University, studying Creative Writing and English. His goals are to become an author and teach.
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