Showing posts with the label WinterShow all
The Grammar of Staying
Midwinter, 1980–81 The cold had a grammar then. It conjugated the body into ache and wait, into not-yet. Doorways learned my outline. Cardboard kept the minutes from breaking apart.
Winter, After You
On the Season You Became a Stranger Grief is not a state but a landscape; you wake in it one morning and realize it has changed its shape while you slept. - C.S. Lewis Snow settles on the silent lawns, a hush drawn tight across the town; I walk the path we traced together before you left - and took them down.
