Yesterday, et al


Yesterday, I saw you

Differently than I see you.

For just one beat

I saw the wrinkles

On your face were

Dug deep as the

Holes in your heart.

The white of your

Hair was weak, pale

As the single rose

You positioned in a

Jar on the table.

I saw you without

Seeing my memories and

Without the mask I

Try to put on

You. It is strange

What our eyes see

When our hearts and

Our minds aren’t looking.

The House’s Glow

Two pairs of sopping snow boots lie haphazardly by the door

The boy’s and the girl’s cold, compact bodies crumble in front of the fire

Pixels of snow melt on the tips of their hair

They introduce their frozen fingertips to the orange flames’ glow

Empty mugs stand on the soft wooden table, waiting to be filled

With steaming hot chocolate to put the children’s wishes to sleep

On top of the fireplace, snow-drenched mittens sleep

The abandoned snowman waits outside the door

Wishing his hat wasn’t made of snow, while inside the mugs are filled

And placed by the children who giggle in front of the fire

The girl slowly lifts the drink to her blue lips and delights in its cozy glow

A thick blanket is wrapped around her shoulders and covers her head like hair

The snowman waits outside wishing that he had hair

Inside a woman with thick dark hair rests on a couch with her blue-eyed baby in deep sleep

A man with snow colored hair sits on a chair under a lamps’ steady glow

Not understanding the book in his tired hands, he closes it like a door

The boy and the girl sprawl stomachs pressed to the carpeted floor before the fire

The boy puts his blue crayon down, his coloring book is filled

The mugs by the fire are not refilled

The woman on the couch closes her eyes and strokes her baby’s delicate hair

The boy and the girl tell jokes in front of the chuckling fire

Outside, the snowman wishes he had a snug, quilt covered bed in which to sleep

He wishes he had hands with thumbs so he could open the door

And feel the house’s glow

The boy stands up and walks in socks to the door

His brown eyes meet the snowman’s pebble eyes and he wishes he could bring the snowman inside to warm up by the fire

Next to the boy is a different woman with sand colored hair

She assures her little son that he can play with the snowman again tomorrow and his gap-toothed grin glows

His sandy-haired mother smiles too, glad that his hopes have been fulfilled

In front of the fire, the crayon in the girl’s coloring hand sleeps

The understanding man puts a brown log into the fire

He looks at the woman and the blue-eyed baby and he glows

In his arms, the girl is asleep

In the warm house, soon all the beds are filled

The empty mugs stay patiently in front of the fire

The snowman stays on the other side of the door

The people dream nothing and the night is fire-filled

In the darkness, the house still glows, and pillows hide under dozing hair

Outside, the snow doesn’t sleep, and all night it knocks on the door


The night was glowing with warm, calm tension.

The night was a table with plates of cheese and half empty glasses of red wine

standing solemnly, comforting each other.

The night was silent but it screamed out of memories not made and thoughts not spoken.

That night voices murmured things I didn’t want to hear.

That night friends stood together, sipping whispers and slowly chewing flavorless melancholy.

That night pale sheets fell on the breakable figure of my misplaced mother.

That night was teasingly peaceful, shoving my hidden struggles into the light.

That night candle flames swayed to rhythms of the past.

That night candle flames flickered and cast shadows on hollow white columns.

That night candle flames disguised dark faces I thought I knew.

That night candle flames brought to light answers for questions I never asked.

That night candle flames allowed me to see the beauty I had lost in her.

That night I didn’t realize that it was the last night.

Josephine Viemeister
Age 16, Grade 11
Elisabeth Irwin High School
Silver Key

Leave a Reply