$1,000 in the Pot

In the morning light it was easy to see 

where her brother Abel had driven the truck. 

Not too close to the house. Few footprints 

remained under the new snowfall, a light

one last night. Darla recalled other snows 

that had blown in nearly to the windows 

and under the house. Especially 

under the house where the snow froze, 

first warmed by the house itself and then 

froze into solid rock by the winds that 

skimmed down the hill. She had spent 

a winter here with him, with Josh, 

but she’d learned the snow fell even 

in July. It was time to leave. 

She’d park the truck in town 

after her boxes were loaded 

onto the train. This view, lonesome, 

didn’t reveal the small town nearby 

with people who’d bet on whether 

she’d make it even one year. She’d 

held out for Abel. He could use the money.  

She turned, got into the truck,

shut the door and headed 

to the civilization that she knew.

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