First Edit: Wandering

[nibbed]

I just got it.
thanks richard


yikes, I better offer up some sort of critique
before my warning levels shoot through the roof.
I just wasn't "getting" this poem. I knew there
was something I was missing, but I was certain
it was a failure on my part. I was right. It was
the grandmother that I got tangled up on.
The very best wishes to you.


Wandering

The winter night
for her
seems sunny and warm,

“Are we almost there?”
asks the girl;                                              I saw it here

her hands shivering,
trembling,
awaiting a touch
that will never come,

“We're almost there,”
answers the grandmother;                         and here

the blowing snow blinds her
like a searchlight,
so she starts to run,

“I should really go home now,”
says another man's wife;                            and here

the wind is loud like someone
shouting
after a lost person.

Her journey ends
just as her day turns into night,
or our night into day.
Her corpse                                                this too
recovered like a stolen purse
that was emptied of its valuables.