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Winter | The Poetry Foundation

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Winter [One winter, I became very quiet] Advertise with Poetry Poetry Magazine Poetry Historical Index Poetry Magazine Archive Submit to Poetry

One winter, I became very quiet and saw my life. It was February and outside in the city streets, snow fell but would not collect. I bought snapdragons and thistle, got some discount peach roses that smelled off. I split them between vases and moved the bouquets from room to room while a violin solo rang out. My throat hurt. My tonsils grew blubbery like two fat snails, kissing in a slow arc. A detective show played. I wanted a cigarette and Jimmy Stewart in my bed. Nightly, I dreamt of epileptic Dostoevsky in Siberia with only the New Testament to read and thought of that…

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