The Up & Coming Magazine

I think of you as the wind rattles bare branches

And snow crunches under my heels

Each of my breaths are little deaths

When an animal speaks, it is an owl, hooting

Or coyotes howling

While I exhale my expectations and joy

Thinking of you is like tasting something burnt

Or biting a lemon

Like licking frozen metal

I cannot grieve because you are not lost

You’re just living there

Breathing foreign air with foreign flair

So, I will walk in winter, kicking drifts of leaves

And skid on ice while

Catching snowflakes on my tongue

I will hoot with the owls, sharing our secrets

And howl with coyotes speaking our truths

Letting the wind dry my tears

I will eat hot roasted chili peppers

Licking char off my fingers and lips

And sip straight lemon juice in honor of you

But I will not mourn what never was

Nor what will never be

Instead, I’ll listen to the trees

This was written by our contributing writer, Holly McCarthy.