Virgin snow blankets the curving, rolling hill.
You stand, feeling the caress of the wintry wind,
Blowing, brushing, swirling, it seems to fill
You with memories of times long past.
Listen carefully and you can hear them, the voices
Of your childhood you thought to be forever lost.
You climb a steep hill, the snow crunches and crackles
Under your feet; the night having brought cold frost.
You shiver suddenly, reaching the white-capped peak,
As memories of that horrible day flood back.
The fateful day that brought the end to a meek
Young child's life, once forgotten, is remembered.
The scent of the ocean, intermingled with pine
Invades your senses, and you are gravely glad
That the stench of death, of malevolence no longer
Permeates the air, as on that day it had.
Sadness, emptiness, loneliness invades your unhealed
Heart. The cold, the snow, the ocean and trees all
Bring back the fear from that day the child's fate was sealed.
A salty tear trickles down your tender cheek.
Glance around and you are sure you can still see
The dark red bloodstains tainting the snow. But
It is just a memory, long-forgotten--of the child that was me.
And as you go, I sigh, knowing I can never leave.
Copyright 1999 - Rachel Helgason. You may redistribute this for personal use only (if aren't sure
if that means you, it doesn't) with my name attached.