Glorie Parris


I notice the way snow unsuspectingly accumulates
Filling childlike minds with wonder, layering
Warm red brick paths with cold blankets
Packing its imposing stature on small
Brown branches, the way those small arms
Hold up bright paper lanterns is a comfort.
The light guides me home. You
are the snow. Pristine and rash. I am the
Branches. Strong yet fragile.
I turn and realize that as you speak, your face
Is showcasing your sadness. Tears hang on
Like droplets resting on a cup’s lid. Ready to fall.
My ears are ready to catch.
I hide nothing. I am giving you honesty.
Unaware of the naked importance of this moment.,
I let the memories of you accumulate like
A winter’s storm.
I need a shovel