Cold Nights
On cold nights, I drove around the world with your babies in the car. Mainly, because I couldn’t sleep.
It was winter. Christmas time.
I remember it was brisk one night. Bitter another.
Crisp one night. Sharp another.
As razor edged as the thought of you.
Safe from the beauty and ugliness of the world. The beauty of Christmas hurt too much, as did your goodbye.
Bathed in the soft, warm, healing glow of the dashboard lights, I drove around the world … or maybe it was just town, with your babies in the car … or maybe they belonged only to me.
Photo credit: Laurel L. Russwurm
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