First Snow Stefanie Kirby That evening stars fell as snow cocooned by chirping branches and the leaf I’d mistook earlier for a little brown bird with breaths like the feathered flight of gathering cumulus at dark, marking the last time you’d be wreathed in heartbeat and blood. I radiated warmth as a second skin of flakes melted into a thin sweat for your small soul. By morning, flurried drifts rose barren arctic, still. Stefanie Kirby Continue Reading
