A Handful of Poems

"I wish to be the ignorant raindrop, sometimes, to think that it was my fault after all of this. Alas,/ It was all a bitter execution of will that led me to her, killed her, and soaked my world with tears."


6. Fist Snow

The first snow in many months.

Seven months.

Seven warm months and six days.


Droplets frozen in suspense.

Seven drops.

Each too soon for winter.


Excited clouds swirl above.

Seven swirls.

Crystals begin to fall.


Now, imperfect snowflakes fall onto the suspenseful grass.

They’re each more special, delicate, and gleeful than could be surmised by simple eyes.

Memories are soon resurrected, the good ones.

The sun goes down. Peace goes up.


But, two people are within

They hug.

Done, the night they each had.


That day had been so very good.

Long awaited.

‘Till they murmured goodbye.







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