Erosion of Winter

“It was snowing today,” she comments, shaking off her coat
as she hangs it up. “I know,” he grunts, looking up, “It was white.”
She pauses, thinks ‘better to say nothing’, & scribbles a note
with the grocery list before she heads back out into gray light.
The list survives only long enough for her to walk half way
through the produce section, where she suddenly smells strawberries.
Strawberries! The door gusts open. Now she smells snow. She waits.
The door closes. She turns her head. Berries. Afraid to tarry,
she gathers one pound, then two, into her shopping basket. Then,
she doubles that, more (she knows) than they can eat. Forget oatmeal.
Forget stew beef and canned tomatoes. She scribbles with her pen.
Flour, sugar, butter. Baking powder. Eggs. Thick cream. The REAL
cream. Real strawberries, first of the season, deserve real cream, yes?
She pauses. Closes her eyes, bends over the basket, breathes. Yes.


4 responses to “Erosion of Winter

  1. Gathered the feeling into a bulging basket wonderfully!

    • Thank you. I think this is my favorite so far this season. I sometimes wonder what I’d come up with if I tried to keep NaPoWriMo going all year. But then I am always so desperately exhausted by the end of it that I can’t face it. You know the feeling, I’m sure.

  2. This was lovely – snow and fresh fruit in the same day (only in modern times)

    • Well, there are always freak snows. The reason I have my house is because of a freak 6-inch blizzard in April. With this one, there was an Irish folk song that kept running through my mind. “Oh, the lambs on the green hills, / They sport and the play, / And many strawberries grow round the salt sea, / And many strawberries grow round that salt sea, / And many’s the ship sails the ocean.”

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