February

by Michelle Davidson Argyle, 2/9/03

This is the highest feeling: standing in the snow,
my feet as bare as the tallest tree. It has been
thirty-eight days and only the second
snow-fall since the December it felt like March.
If the snow fell red, the world would bleed

into itself and call the wound Valentine.
February is the month of hearts and diamonds.

If you look closely, you can see them falling.
This morning you left warmth on your pillow.
I breathed it in like this cold air and the snow
falling onto itself one layer at a time.
It is melting like tiny hearts of ice.

Remember the fourteenth; it will have been
two-hundred and thirteen days from our first kiss.