Bodies Beneath The Snow Poem by Amelie Ison

I am seeing the snow fall from down here: in the mud.
I am watching gentle, soft snowflakes fall upon the ground—
Isn't it bizarre that something so delicate and beautiful
Would be found somewhere so barren?

The snow does not reach me where I stand;
It avoids me like all life seems to do—
It is because of me that this land lies fallow and bare.

The snow lands upon the bodies. Whose bodies;
I do not know—they have been here for as long as I have,
And more have gathered here over the years.

Unintentionally, I seem to collect them.
Like a snake that must shed its skin, I have so many
Bodies surrounding me. I am confined down here in the mud,

Whilst the snow falls from the wandering sky—
Seasons that appear and disappear like a lost traveller—
And I watch the snow fall so gently from where I stand that
I forget (for only a brief second)
My legs aching with weariness. But I must not leave.

There is blood upon the snow and snow upon the bodies:
They are all my bodies, discarded and left to rot—
Old bodies of mine that I betrayed and abandoned.

So while others get to revel in the gift of snow,
I must remain down here in the mud, away from the bodies;
Away from everyone else. I must stay where
The snow does not reach, for I do not get that luxury.