An unsettling familiarity:
when did Christmas become creepy?
Snow-covered grounds and colorful
lights,
a cafe's warmth in the cold.
But instead of sanctuary,
it feels like a trap,
a place where time loops:
sit here and fall into the past.
Relive last year's isolation,
a season of family spent alone
watching a crow perch on a rusty cross
abandoned in an empty parking lot.
Clinging to a cup of tea
in a cold, dark apartment
because it's the only warmth I had,
otherwise I'd have frozen.
She hands me a cold mug of water
on the last night we'd share.
The cold is a promise,
and the warmth is a maybe.
-Zero
No comments:
Post a Comment