Susan LaffertyWinter grey. And snow remains. On the edges. In corners.
Hidden from the sun. By shelter and shadow.
Held captive by cold. Temperatures never rising quite far enough.
Winter’s fringes remain visible today. From where I sit. Looking through glass.
“What’s your name?” I ask. And the man stumbles over his answer.
Gives me one response. Then another.
At first I think it’s miscommunication. I’m still learning culture and language, after all.
But soon I hear the story behind the struggle.
His story.
My mother’s response when things didn’t go as planned?
I can hear it now.
“The best-laid plans of mice and men…” her voice trails off. Not completing the quote from the poet, Robert Burns.
But I know. And the words run through my head.
“…often go awry.”
