Feb 10, 2010

Someone Else

log walls
chinked with gaps
wind whistling
snow piled up
to the tiny windows
quilts draped over knees
children huddled by the fire
playing fort under their
mountain of blankets
hot cider simmering
a few biscuits
venison stew had been supper
little to remind her of home
just the silver
the evidence that
she had been someone else