Candlelight curtains filled the bay window,

there were evergreen trees

and the house was as white as an ice floe.

Inside was a father who buried himself in his work,

a mother whose everything stopped at the walls,

a girl who said Nothing, when asked what was wrong,

and outside, the evergreens, silent as snow.

She sat two rows over and we passed notes in class.

It was Friday and tomorrow was matinee day.

The father worked overtime behind a closed door,

the mother buried herself in an ice-colored room.

The girl who said Nothing, said, Sorry can't go,

and the evergreens, silent, looked down at their shoes.

My yard had oak trees.

My world had tomorrows.

Some people said fireworks, some people said backfire.

On Monday, the desk two rows over was empty.

People who say for the sake of the children, don't know.

In a heartbeat everything stopped at the walls.

Outside, the evergreens, silent as snow.