Melting
by Patricia Goodman
In late winter warmth
thin spots in creek ice dissolve,
become expanding holes.
Fox tracks in creekside snow
grow too,
become distorted, larger than life,
like his addiction
to anger
that grew with our marriage…
it was always my fault -
I needed to cook better, work
faster, be less selfish.
At times the ice grew thin.
After he took his life
some of the pain
began to fade,
smoothed over by
sweeter memories,
as when cold and snow return
and holes in the ice heal,
scars faintly visible,
while beside the creek
fresh tracks mark the dawn.
by Patricia Goodman
In late winter warmth
thin spots in creek ice dissolve,
become expanding holes.
Fox tracks in creekside snow
grow too,
become distorted, larger than life,
like his addiction
to anger
that grew with our marriage…
it was always my fault -
I needed to cook better, work
faster, be less selfish.
At times the ice grew thin.
After he took his life
some of the pain
began to fade,
smoothed over by
sweeter memories,
as when cold and snow return
and holes in the ice heal,
scars faintly visible,
while beside the creek
fresh tracks mark the dawn.
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