Loud and constant, like rustling leaves

The sound of the new falling ice

A rhythm unchanging, the sound of the freeze

The snow clouds above, it does entice

I woke to the sound of my whimpering son

Visions danced wild in his head

What dream did he dream that made him forget

His mother beside him in bed?

The last time it snowed, he was under a lamp

Blue, like a bright neon sun

20, now 30, now 50 mL’s

How soon would his time there be done?

“Too early,” they said, only two weeks before

“If she falls, she will go into labor.”

No defrost we had; still, we drove with care

But he came on his own two weeks later

Was it bottles and blue lights that disturbed your sleep

Oxygen tubes and IV’s

Or was it the womb you were seeing once more

Leaving warmth, to embrace the freeze?

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