In our cottage, echoing in silence,
words became taboo;
inducing an early winter.
The snow fell in hordes,
down upon this town.
We let go
of our silent vows,
as its flaking lullaby began.
With numb gloved fingers,
we moulded her,
sculpting the perfect doll.
We glazed her porcelain skin with ice,
crudely poked in her eye sockets;
our own Frozen Charlotte.
We longed for her eyes to flutter open,
even for just one glassy glance.
Previously published in THE SEASONS: A Collection of Poetry and Prose on Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter, 2017.