SPARK

Response Piece - Joy Williams

Inspiration Piece – Molly Williams

 Winter After

Winter’s limp hand settles over land,

pixelates the sky into grey sand.

            We are reminded of what we have lost—

            memories rattle chains, as wan ghosts

            wringing their translucent hands.

Flattened fields long for the soothing kiss of winter wet

on their raw, crackling foreheads.

            Wind, lips pursed,

            blows into the etched letters of gravestones;

            chills seep down to her fresh-buried bones.

Flowers, now crumpled dry skins, settle.

We huddle closer, seek warmth from whispered last words,

            and think of her desperate love for winter;

            the way she understood what it felt like

                        to slowly wither.