wildscape. literary journal

winter
by Ellie Ellias

When it snows the street narrows like we do. 
Just like an animal. I watch through the window,

fail to retreat. 30 years old and scared to close
my eyes. 

I was taught to be afraid of germs, a still-lit 
candle, hurting a man’s feelings. Freedom 

is getting to choose one’s own fears. 

Freedom is getting to choose one’s own fears: I’ve found only the
commonplace. There are 

no new monsters under this bed. 

Every woman I pass on the sidewalk has come
before me. Every woman comes after. 

In December I bury myself like all the girls. I remember
to make angels. I remember angels

melt. Every shape we make in winter forgets. I remember this
season is long: there is power in choosing

to fear it. 

about the author // Ellie Ellias