We Went Swimming on New Year’s Eve

Snow, a foreign concept to this Florida girl, is better as bubbles in the park; meeting Santa in the sun; kids playing in pretend-cold. Real snow is slush, I’ve heard it’s good as dirt because of trash in Gary, Indiana that becomes the weather. (Still, I open-mouthly try to catch some; I must hope for Hallmark-truths, not Midwest struggle.) In a photo called “Brunette, topless in the snow,” the ground is soft, Christmas-card white, powder fine snow that’s too soft to threaten warmth; must be bubbles in the sun.

Selena Cotte is a senior poetry major at Columbia College Chicago, and her work has appeared or is forthcoming in White Ash Literary Magazine and Columbia Poetry Review. She is originally from Orlando, Florida.

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