everyone remembers that snow
back in ’93
cooking over fires and thawing water
of kerosene-smelling clothes 
cold bologna sandwiches 

you were trapped in your house
emptied by the woman you loved
when she decided it was time to leave

I remember that winter because
it was the longest I ever
got to spend  with you alone
a solid week
building furniture to fill
that empty ancient farmhouse
with a dirt floor in the back room

you drank beer all day and night
shot moon whistlers through
the chimney
the scream and pop
muted by a snow-covered roof

it was the third time I saw you cry
when you called her on the phone
begged her to bring the kids home
told her that you’d do anything
to make sure to see your kids again
told me that you weren’t going to mess up
this time

played Conway Twitty on full blast

I wanted to remind you
that I used to sit on the phone
beg my father to come get me

but even then
at ten years old
I knew I had to be a man
stronger than you

I made sure the fire burned hot
knowing that I was never 
really yours