Winter Girl
It often seems my young life was mostly winter..a few brief memories of the sun, the swimming hole and my mother's pies. But mostly, I remember wind and rain and loneliness.
I never liked myself....looking in the mirror was painful . I constantly felt I was trying to
make something, and had nothing to work with. My brother wore a golden halo, and I was blinded by it.
winter's bare branches
reflect the icy moonlight
the gardener waits
Slowly my winter to turned to spring. I was able to see my reflection in the eyes of others. "Not So Bad!" I heard them say...My hands were no longer empty...and I lived life with a vengeance. The gardeners that tended my blooms opened a new world to me as I turned toward the sun.But deep inside the winter girl lurks and she will always be my shadow.
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2013
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