Gretchen Gales

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POETRY

a·poc·a·lypse

/əˈpäkəˌlips/
noun
the complete final destruction of the world, as described in the biblical book of Revelation. (Oxford Dictionary)

My father’s oversized Michigan State sweatshirt, my lazy go-to winter guard against the dry chill of the first snow. I open the door to a light, yet stinging breeze littered with fresh snowflakes as my dog Ernest yanks his leash in my tight grip.

No backwoods gunshots, no bleating of the neighbor’s goat, no barking hunting beagles—just snowflakes going tick tick as they land on the polyester of my jacket. As I wait for Ernest to find his “pee-poo” spots, I look upwards and observe the gray sky encasing my white slice of earth. I admire how the snow nests itself on bare trees and hides the shriveled grass. I listen to the swirling of the wind and breathe in its sharp, fresh smell.

I too will dissolve like snow / forbear to shine.


Gretchen is the executive editor of Quail Bell Magazine and a secondary English teacher. Her writing and art are collected at writinggales.com.


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Photo Credit: “Out Making Tracks” by Adam Levine (Public Domain).

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