winter 1971
By benafim
Winter 1971 Early morning dread, too much wine last night remembering the coldest night of all. It was the year of brutal winter, first crisp Christmas snow gently fell; then it rained for two days and the chill came, everything froze, water pipes, ponds, rivers and lakes even the narrow stretch of water leading to the island where the rich had their sailing boats. The local newspaper asked the oldest person in the town if she could remember any year that cold? She couldn’t (the oldest is always a woman)but pointed to a jet plane’s vapour and blamed modern time upsetting nature’s balance. Brother came home drunk in righteous anger I told him to leave, he did; outside he slipped on icy pavement hit his head and two hours later… dead. Those accusing eyes by the graveside, why didn’t you let him sleep it off on the sofa? Haunted by a town’s silence I left, but didn’t escape the guilt, at dawn the dread wants me to pay the price… Written January 5th, 2002 © on Jan 04 2002 10:50 PM PST 0 • 1
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"Winter 1971..."