(Ola Gozha/Unsplash)

How many snow flakes fall on this house

with the red roof. A deer comes to graze—

washed in umber, white-tailed, it nuzzles

drift-fixed wands of blackberry, pulls stems

frothed with inch-thick hoarfrost. Icicles bloom

from failing gutters. If you peer close

a woman wanders from room to room,

glaze-eyed, looking for her lost romance.

Fixed diagnoses: hallux rigidus,

spinal stenosis, sifted by a demiurge.

Listen as she washes miniscule dishes,

china small as atoms. After the urge

to leave home wrests loose of the glass

she sits down alone to watch Christmas.

Judith Skillman is the author of twenty books of poetry. Her recent collection is Subterranean Address, New & Selected Poems (Deerbrook Editions, 2023). 

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Published in the December 2022 issue: View Contents
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