What I wouldn't give
if I could
but live once again
in the days where the
coldest things I knew
were the bite of winter
wind and the icy stares
that come hand-in-hand
with serious arguments.
Then, perhaps,
I might forget
the cold casualty with
which the one who professed love
drew back and turned away
without an utterance
of explanation.
I might forget
the icy touch
of that hand that I held
for but a second
before it was pulled back,
wringing more tears from my
eyes than I thought possible.
I indeed might forget
that aching space
in my heart that was left
there after the emotionless
denial of my attempts
to reach that frost-covered,
barb-wire form that is
supposed to be a heart.
I might forget all of that,
if wishes came true.
But I suppose I would always know
that there are colder things
than the harshest winter wind.

11/19/2000

Posted on 09/20/2002
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