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Dead-of-Winter White

by Ken Harnisch

She said, “There is something about the snow in January.”

That dead-of-winter white, against which

Even the shadows do not gray, but are instead

Like whipped cream swirls on the custard lands.

 

She built a fire out of logs I cut and stacked

By the lean-to in the back, and though wearied

By the snow, she found a few and carried them

Inside the shelter where we lay.

 

“Come see the trees,” she said. “See the way

The ice is glistening on each branch and limb.”

But I only snarled, and reminded her that

Icy trees are just disasters on their way to happening.

 

She sighed, in that way a parent does when faced

With a recalcitrant child, and said, “If you do not

Know beauty now, when will you know it?”

And I replied, “In time, perhaps, when I’ve forgotten treachery.”

 

Stung, she went outside and I watched her standing,

Shuddering in the snow, and through the window

Webbed with frost I saw her salty darts

Turn to lead the dead-of-winter white.

 

01/15/2003

Posted on 01/15/2003
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kate Demeree on 01/15/03 at 08:35 PM

Every time I read this I cry, sometimes we know just what it is we do when we do it, as well as the grief it causes. You are an extraordinary writer, and you always touch my heart. The whole piece is exquisit, but the last lines in the fourth stanza and the last, could stand alone.

Posted by Melissa Arel on 01/15/03 at 08:43 PM

"“If you do not/Know beauty now, when will you know it?”" This piece is a classic, Ken.. I remember when you let me pre-read it and the conversation it created.. The imagery in this poem is wonderful.. Another beautiful writing :)

Posted by Mara Meade on 01/20/03 at 02:09 PM

"In time, perhaps, when I've forgotten treachery." Oh my. That hits hard. Excellent words and imagery and insights...

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