the snow is a metaphor i’m not so into purity these days but man does the snow do it for me pure white gleaming in the sun like an endless whiteboard covered in glitter flawless and blinkingly bright heaps of cold for miles these days i’m about as pure as blood but this view makes me yearn for a time when i didn’t feel this way truth be told in my religion we’re more into blessed wine and living water moving us through holiness than stagnant virginity white wooooooosh the wind meets me vividly on the downhill trees lined up like rows of eager candles snow perching on floating pine the snow is indiscriminate frosted on trees smeared on surfaces clouding the mountain air turning everything from the earth to my breath into white itself need i mention the mountains? hovering purplebluebrown in the distance sun on snow sparkles like nothing natural ought to have the right to blindingly whitepurplegreen as it begins to melt turning the inscrutable unknowable into clear clear water almost makes me believe God could be True
Rana Bickel (she/they) is a queer Jewish poet from Maryland residing in Chicago. She is a recent graduate of Barnard College where she was a member of the slam poetry team. Their work has appeared or is forthcoming in Bourgeon Magazine, Thimble Literary Magazine, and the Jewish Literary Journal. She loves books, community, and rainstorms.
Amethyst Review 