Snow Drift

I'd like to find a snowdrift, Lay myself down and dream About days of ice cold silence Not be here to hear you Talk of dead babies, about me Not really being your daughter, But someone else's mistake. I'd like to let the snow become my lover Hold me in silence, not pretend anymore That it's kind to watch you die In your own home, as you wish With me as slave, even though you Believe this is really the hospital And I'm that bitch of a nurse who won't give you chocolate. So here I am with all your junk All this junk you made me dust And clean and wash. I'm building A funeral pyre of all this stuff Thirty garbage bags of clothes And shoes, some never worn Did you have that many selves? All these pictures, letters, documents Genealogies of death. You had your life, and most of mine If I had the nerve I'd torch the house You'd understand Those twenty years for love, I'd do them again. Everything comes back three times Tomorrow I'm heading north.                                                                                                                                             © 2001 J.L.Stanley