Cold Feet

When the maple wore its mantilla of white ice-lace

and the snow annulled all the bumps and holes in the yard,

she decided to leave him.

She snuck out from under the comforter —

he was snoring,

and she wore no slippers.

Suddenly, while standing barefoot in the middle of the kitchen,

the moonlight caught her.

The glare of its light accused her.

And she could not ignore

the hard cold fact of linoleum.

So that is why she was there when he woke up

and asked why her feet were so cold.

© Barbara Burt

[unpublished]