Reflections on a Massachusetts Evening
by Willow Rose
The moon was rimed with frost,
and the snow crunched under our feet;
So scared to slip…
not used to walking on ice
after years of dancing around it.
There was your strong arm ready to catch me if I fell.
To push me if I didn’t move fast enough.
We lasted a little longer than chill morning breath
hanging like clouds, turning to vapor;
Yet less than dew-wet grass under the baleful eye
of the sun.
Perhaps, that is what you will always be.
In the only two seasons of my memory;
Sunlight and shadow, the fireplace, the fan, yet…
I can’t help remembering being in your arms
as we wrote down the date of our anniversary.
©Willow Rose 2011