the snow falls
in thick drifts
the world is dressed
for a wedding.
the wind dances
on the wings
of a solitary seagull
who can be seen crossing
into oblivion;
over that threshold
where the gaze cannot
follow, so thick
is the haze of snow
that has descended upon us;
like a premonition.
that is where I last saw you;
standing at the prow
of a ship slowly sailing
over the edge of the world.
you, the gull,
the snow I clench
in cold hands
that close into fists;
all these things and more
are lost to me –
fading from memory
like a willow
bent
under eons
of snow.
Caitlin Cacciatore (she/hers) is a queer writer and poet who lives on the outskirts of New York City. She believes poetry has the power to create change and brighten lives, and wishes for her work to be an agent of forward motion. She won first prize in Bacopa Literary Review 2020 for poetry. You can find her at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com
Just love this, Caitlin. The imagery has me longing for a cup of coffee and a beautiful snowfall.
Beautiful and haunting.
So beautiful and evocative. Thank you for this!
It is elegant. It flows seamlessly. the imagery is superb.
I particularly like “the world is dressed for a wedding”.