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NEMESIS / Cleopatra Mathis October, and the green trees fill with snow. Nothing falls away, nothing refuses the black my body wears. I am covered in this quiet, among these trees still hiding the earliest winter blemish. I am looking for something I have lost but it is covered with snow. Waiting for you to come back I bend over the garden's design, the last intricate fruit of each tree, except for the chestnut, reproachful, bare as a heart by August. You wouldn't recognize my own small heart wrapped in this last season we've crossed. It's no bigger than one of the stones I use to make borders, white stone under snow. The backbone of the chestnut wears white so delicately! And does not move, overreaching the perfect green of the garden. My hands reveal the tight buds I still believe are growing in this space that will turn to emptiness bordered by stones, covered and uncovered in the complete cold. I think of you as the wind returning, the blade of right and wrong that must forgive the weight of this snow you say you have not chosen. Around me the weakened trees refuse to bow, every scarred leaf waits to be released. The Missouri Review ยท 29 ...

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Additional Information

ISSN
1548-9930
Print ISSN
0191-1961
Pages
p. 29
Launched on MUSE
2011-10-05
Open Access
No
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