Note:
I wasn’t taking sides
with the stone statues
or the hint of dark
that still clung to the sky.
Let it be known,
I barely noticed
the thin wisps of snow
blowing up
from a previous storm
and collecting
in the sidewalk cracks.
And I didn’t once think
of spring
or what comes next.
I promise,
I never assumed
the pigeon
cornering her reflection
in the window
above where you stood
was an omen or metaphor
anymore or less
than the clouds that moved
to cover the sun.
I only wanted to sit on a bench
and listen
to the trees moan,
to give the wind
something to struggle against,
and consider
the few winter leaves
that hang on too long
and will not let go.
Kristene Kaye Brown is a mental health social worker. She earned her MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts. Her work has been featured on NPR and published most recently in New South, Nimrod, Ploughshares, Salt Hill, and others. She lives and works in Kansas City.