You and I were happy,
held in the tight grip of the frost
that could chill deep so easily,
the cold nights and mornings
that could freeze without any
force at all. How bright it all was,
ice that slipped under great
drifts of snow, sky turned pearl-
white in snowfall, every step
a strike onto shimmering paths
and you and I were the dark
shadows attached by slippery
soles, we were a bundle of twigs
held close by a hand ready
for a fire, you and I were,
before spring, brought together
for all the warmth of our great
bodies, even for awhile, and
we were happy then.
Two
In the wake of the long winter,
one week of thaw re-freezes
and the sap buckets set in the maple trees
hang empty. The day, a child’s face,
glows with cold, and the snow
with its wind sweeping it along
is taking us back to the coldest hours,
just as the round opening in the rotten
tree trunk calls back the woodpecker
to be busy eating again. Imagine spring,
like this but with so much that drives
the winter out and pulls the sap from
maple trees. And even more that happens
once the ground unfreezes and isn’t cold.
Three
Just one more night and day of winter
before the spring takes over
and today’s first robin appeared,
and patches of ground revealed
where snow recedes.
These last days move past
a winter of deep respite,
past what we have known
for so long, a life together,
and I see how you could leave
as easily as stay. And me,
how could I want for anything else
than to see your face again,
so familiar and so loved, even if it is
for just one time only in the spring?
Author Bio:
Gigi Marks lives with her family on a small farm near the western edge of Cayuga Lake, in New York State. She has worked as an educator, independent scholar, editor, and conservationist. Her writing includes four books of poetry that have developed within the sustained relationship of family in and around the countryside of the Finger Lakes region, Gayogo̱hó:nǫ’--the lands of the Cayuga people.