Snow Reflections in the Spring

So it used to be marg- spider in the window.blogger.com? Now it's Spider in the Window.  I don't know if that will cause any problems for anyone who was following me.  I certainly hope not!




Alone again                                                    by Thomas Trofimuk

   
You take a deep breath.
You take a deep, deep breath
Inhale against this moment
You take your first breath in hours and immediately want to cry
You are tired and feel older than you are, and tonight it is snowing
and the snow covers the past and forgives the future

This snow offers an immediate salvation for everything you have done
You look out the snow at the window that is falling all around
You look out the snow at the window that is there
You look out the snow at the glass of wine in front of you
You begin to look out the snow at your life
You imagine the feel of falling snow on your naked body—
a million icy stabs on skin
each cold touch unique
because each cold flake is unique
And at first you can distinguish—shoulder, arm, elbow, nose,
cheek, belly, other shoulder, face, leg, thigh, foot, ear,
but then the points begin to meld
and in the end,
you are only cold

You order more wine
You ask for more wine
And the waiter brings more wine
And half fills a new glass with more wine
You look out the snow at the window that is there and you take a big breath.
You breathe deeply—inhale against the lurking sadness
But this resonates in the flow of life

Sitting by the window, the unspoken drifting past a café window
as you are warm with your glass of red and in the corner a crackling fire
and a waiter who knows exactly when to draw near with his lifted eyebrows
and arms akimbo

You wonder how many times you will have this scene
You wonder if the café is moving, or is it the snow?

You take a deep breath
You take a deep, deep breath
Inhale into this moment
You take another breath and immediately want to cry
You must breathe this snow without self-pity, or remorse
You will never find the beauty of snow if you are filled with self-pity
You look out the snow at the window that is there
You look out the snow at the world that is there.

You are simply alone in a snowstorm
And this is a far better aloneness
than the one you had with her.

Early spring in the Rockies. More concerns about spring blizzards than about rain  for us.

A Mountain Spring

Peace hath an altar there. The sounding feet
Of thunder and the wildering wings of rain
Against fire-rifted summits flash and beat,
And through grey upper gorges swoop and strain;  

  by Henry Kendall