journal entries - 2 - Marie

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    Marie 1:47
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On cold winter mornings
       I would walk Marie
             to school.

The snow,
piled high
        along the sidewalk, …

… brilliantly white,
         nearly blinding
              in the sun.

That night
the wind had drifted the snowfall
as though a sculpture
      had shaped it …

… with loving hands
                into an ocean wave.

I was lost
     in conversation,
     the contours of her face …

… when she took my arm
and placed it
       'round her waist …

… and told me of a boy
         who had hurt her

I knew
    loneliness …

… but did not know
           well enough …

… to comprehend
         what she was
                going through.


© 2019, Gary Browe, All Rights Reserved

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