White memory

My mother (left) and her sister

First snow

Holding me tight against her hip,

so young, her heavy winter coat,

a bundle of wet wool. My mother.

Snowflakes swirling around us,

circles within circles, dancing

as they fall to the ground.

A black and white faded picture,

soft at the edges.

Our apartment building, in the back,

its lines smeared by nature’s rushed painting.

My first year, my first snow

Did I like it?

Snowflakes sizzle as they touch the warm ground,

the world around me, still so new,

now wrapped in a soft white blanket,

unknown forms masked.

Did I worry that the white blanket

will wrap around me and muffle my voice,

my mother hair covered with the white crystals,

will she disappear behind the white curtain?

Her arms around me,

Snowflakes dancing around us

Uninterrupted quiet, just us two

The touch of her arms etched

In my memory, forever