February 14, 2007

It is Valentine’s Day and like a gift from cupid himself, a heavy snow has come, leaving a shimmering mantle of beauty on the ashen landscape. With the last light of day fading from my room, the low flames from the wood-stove cast a red glow along the back of Lola as she lays sleeping in it’s warmth. The opening music to Solaris plays on a loop waiting for me to push play, to escape into the strange beauty of it’s imagery.

I knew the storm was coming. But I did not know that today would be the final strike. The blood stains covered over, this was to be our last war cry. My words muffled beneath a blanket of snow, there would be no winning this one. (I retreat in silence and wish you well).

But there is love and spring will come in on his coattails. He is a gold thread pulling me through the long winter. He will come when the ground is no longer frozen and the milkweed seed is sewn. When Autumn comes, we will watch the down drift past these windows carried on a zephyr. And this day spent alone between a cry and a whisper, watching the snow-fall…will be long forgotten.

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