Where to go when your world is ending

We drove up the snowy, winding road

towards the cozy A-frame cabin.

I have to notice the trees that tower above

our car, and

the hazy cabins in the distance

that have nestled into snowdrifts, and

the snowcapped tips of the mountains

that we can see even as we drive up them.

I lean in

too close to the car window

and when we turn into the driveway

the gasp I let out shrouds the view in mist.

I think, as we shrug on packs and

trudge up the walk, that this place could make the difference.

This place could be where it all changes

or crumbles apart. This cabin

our saving grace, a new kind of glue, kintsugi to our

broken bowl of a relationship.

This might be the place we are reworked,

reborn, and reforged.

When we leave, I’ll be able to reach for a hand

and have one capture mine without

hesitation.

I look at them ahead of me by a few paces,

snow boots dusted white and pants already dampened

by the weather, and let

the hope win out.

This will be our place.

***

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