Frozen Flowers

 

 

The street was white again,

all the bushes covered with heavy snow

and the trees glittering, encased with ice.

 

I lay in the dark, waiting for the night to end.

It seemed the longest night I had ever known,

longer than the night I was born.

 

I write about you all the time, I said aloud.

Every time I say “I,” it refers to you.

 

~from Visitors from Abroad by Louise Gluck, 

 

 

 

*****

 

Photo by Sandra Peterson Ramirez.