Dead Cold of Winter
by Amber Seguin

What is a child lost?
It’s like a flower that blooms in the dead cold of winter.
It blushes and blossoms,
And then dies.
And holding the empty shell of what was once a part of me
I think I’ve died inside, myself, you see.

And like the dead cold of winter,
My eyes don’t shut until all the damage is done.
And the cold melts away;
Spring takes its place.
So I open my eyes and see the irises;
I see the daisies and the wildflowers
That made it through the dead cold of winter.

I wonder if my flower could bloom in me again.
I wonder if spring could last forever,
And my flower could blossom,
And live,
And breathe in my arms
Through the joy of spring,
The delight of summer,
The foreboding of fall,
And the dead cold of winter.

I wonder if the next flower could be as beautiful as the last.
For it gave one breath,
And was gone
Like a whisper,
A breath,
A thought,
My baby was gone.