A woman sits alone starring into a frigid
Wind-swept snow through a frosted window
Moistened by her breath.
Deeply she melodiously breathes
Preoccupied by the moment,
Unaware and too upset to care.
Eyes desolate, glowering in disbelief
Stare into a realm of her own making
Forlorn, untouchable, inconsolable.
Tightly she grasps a woven blanket
Upon her legs draping, swaying
Above the floor.
The odor of burnt wood pervades the air;
From a hearth the crackle of embers
Echo through a shrouding silence.
From among the shadows a young girl
Steps forth; stopping, gently touching
The woman’s arm as she whispers
Into her ear.
The eyes of the woman awoke,
Surprised by the young child
As they tenderly embraced;
Tears laden with joy flowed
Down her weary face.
Together, yet apart the child
Said nothing as she took one step back
Into the dark.
“I love you mother, always” the child said
As she disappeared into the silence.
Jonathan M. Bellmann