That Summer

I lived in an area of snow and trees

and the weak sun spying on this horizon

of white silence. 

Snow was the bottom line to all this.

You lived in an area where there was

a beach, and water, and noise.

I often dreamed about seeing you there,

us two on the beach like every one else

licking at ice lollies and running into the

waves, hand in hand, smiles and laughter,

beauty and the beast together finally- but

of course

they were just day dreams.

Every day I got up to see the welcome arms

of mist clouded around the feet of pine trees,

no amount of blankets could keep us warm

and Dad would punish us by taking them away.

He said we were bad kids. He never told us why.

Most times we hadn’t any energy to misbehave.

It was often something he’d done and felt guilty 

about and we were the only ones that he had.

I tried not to care, tried not to listen to his crap,

but one look at my big sister, with the whole world

on her shoulders got me in a twist and the only

thing I could do to help was cry.

And talk to you. I always looked forwards to 

talking to you, it always saved me a little bit

from whatever pain I was in. Without doubt,

you would be there at five o clock in the evening

when I should have been doing homework,

but was internally laying my head in your lap

as you stroked my hair, and loved me.