It’s February & sludge permeates the snow
that has lain here for a month.
Affection has dimmed to shadow,
her attention cast from what was
to what is, the way entropy changes everything,
the chaos of molecules reverberating—
ice, liquid, dust—as they attempt equilibrium
but leave everything in disarray.
She can’t remember what her husband’s love felt like.
She can’t remember his first touch—his hand reaching
for hers as they walked around the lake.
She can’t remember what once was easy,
like rest in the Lord they both believed in then,
like the snow that showered down in January,
christening the new year with all the possible blessings
beauty brings. Sometimes, there’s no such thing
as a fresh start. Sometimes, what falls
gets trapped in the mire & never rises again.
Julie L. Moore, a lover of Labs and rural landscapes, is the author of three books of poetry: Particular Scandals, Slipping Out of Bloom, and Election Day. A Best of the Net and two-time Pushcart Prize nominee, Moore has had her poetry published in Alaska Quarterly Review, Image, Nimrod, Poetry Daily, The Southern Review, and Verse Daily. You can learn more about her work at julielmoore.com.