Frozen Window

The night I scooped snow in the dark,
I knew their marriage was dead.

I wanted to shatter the glass with my shovel
as I watched their window, knowing my mother

was a shadow inside, begging his love
with legs opened, fists clenched.

I dug the edge of my shovel into the drift,
scraping against the sidewalk, wanting

cold or snow to numb me completely.
I left one end of the sidewalk covered,

so she would realize he was gone.

— Kent D. Nielsen