WANDERERS. Spring 2017 | Page 25

Cold David Ferranti She shivered Held her hands over the small fire I kept my oath I freed you She heard the words but did not answer She had been born in the cold Captured in the cold Sold in the cold Escaped into the cold The cold was a tormentor and a lover The cold was the figure that beckoned to her in nightmare The cold was not the man across the fire now He was speaking again I gave my oath I would see you to safety Where do you want to go? Home, she might have said But the cold was all she had ever known So she did not answer The silence stretched Her fingers burned with cold She licked snow from her lips Again Where do you want to go? She raised her head A half-buried memory formed in her mind “Through the valley of the shadow of death…” She added a stick to the fire And felt the cold vanish As the flames crackled David Ferranti is a sophomore concentrating in Biology. 25