A Certain Type of Warmth

A flooding
Of silent whiteness
Appears within this glassy window.
But something burns
Inside, hotter
Than any truth. I remember
When we used to go
Out into the snow. I would
Shiver and shake, but you braved
Those knife-like winds.
You wanted to build snowmen
And snow castles and tiny
Snow worlds to rule over.
But now this world is without
You. Just
Flat and damp. And the snow
piling atop.


Written for the 54th Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest, the topic being “The Bleak Midwinter.”

One thought on “A Certain Type of Warmth

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