Excerpt from “At Henry Cowell State Park, Early Winter”

I drop a glove in the puddle of rainwater,
and bending to remove it
see the reflection of my mother’s figure,
see the levy of years–
the unexpected wither of skin
as if waking to see
that it has snowed
overnight.

c. B. L. Bruce

From “At Henry Cowell State Park, Early Winter” from my award-winning collection “The Weight of Snow,” first published in The Cossack Review

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