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These are no more your dreams than this is your sky
by t.wagner

She squinted,
looking up into streetlights made blurry by the winter storm.

It used to be snow flurries made her sentimental,
pulled her back to memories of
sledding and mugs of hot chocolates,
extra marshmallows.

There was a time that all her remembrances were soft and cuddly,
home movies inside her head.
Blankets, stuffed animals and photo albums,

Walking alone to her car this night,
in the back of the funeral home's parking lot
she knew things had changed, and
that it would be a while before she associated snow with anything
except cold.
 

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