Poem Box: The Snow Woman

I am born beneath the ministrations Of frozen, aching hands. Blinking through eyes of coal, Mouth twisted in its fixed pebble smile. Dazzling white snow adorned with a lover’s caress. Icy limbs constricted in your winding coarse scarf Turned to silk by your touch. The crunch of snow hard against my back, Hot breath trailing […]

Jodie Steer
12th December 2023

I am born beneath the ministrations

Of frozen, aching hands.

Blinking through eyes of coal,

Mouth twisted in its fixed pebble smile.

Dazzling white snow adorned with a lover’s caress.

Icy limbs constricted in your winding coarse scarf

Turned to silk by your touch.

The crunch of snow hard against my back,

Hot breath trailing pools of molten ice

In the clefts of my frigid flesh.

Is this what it is to become a woman?

Entombed in the crescendo of a blizzard,

Adrift from the false safety of warmth,

Alone with the blazing of your skin -

A moment; eternity.

Somewhere in between.

Deadly golden arrows pierce

The fragile shield of snow clouds.

Scorching, wrenching my fleeting form apart

With cruel efficiency. The roads clear.

In your wake you leave a puddle of scattered stones;

A forgotten scarf, bereft; lost in a gust of snow.

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