Winter emptied the trees, filled them again with snow.
Because I couldn’t feel, snow fell, the lake froze over.
Because I was afraid, I didn’t move;
my breath was white, a description of silence.
Time passed, and some of it became this.
And some of it simply evaporated.
Louise Glück, from section 2 of “Landscape,” in The Threepenny Review (Issue 100, Winter 2005)
red valentino fall 2013