Snow
It snowed when you were born,
she said, and he was drunk again …
The old car crept
through the dangerous night
such white silence outside,
her pain within.
We moved to California
before I knew how to speak
and though I don’t remember
snow, I think I know
how cold. How deep.
A poem by Jennifer O’Neill Pickering of Sacramento.
Published on 12.24.09
A poem by Heidi Kriz of Sacramento.
Published on 12.17.09
A poem by Andrew J. Leggett of Sacramento.
Published on 12.10.09
A poem by Marilyn Wallner of Sacramento.
Published on 12.03.09
A poem by Kathleen Lynch of Sacramento.
Published on 11.26.09
