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?