Not officially part of NaPo as that's supposed to be all about new stuff, but while there's a hint of creativity still in my bones I might as well make best use of it. Hopefully there will be some new Snowdrop stuff appearing over the next 4 weeks, but for now you'll have to settle for a rewrite of an early section of the project.
This works much better now, and I am saying that myself ...
Dark is the room. She reaches for the switch
and lights up clutter: a couch laden
with coarse cotton; a carpet of swirls
dating back decades; dust on the table
cracking veneer; cascades of vases.
"Come here, my sweet. I'm sorry for those words -
I miss her too, and sometimes I forget
that you're not her; you have her look, absurd
as that may seem to you, a silhouette
to catch and shift me back to when she snuck
away - I ache for her! Still, no time to mawk!"
There's memories here; moments of comfort
and laughter caught in the layers of grime.
She refutes their call, casts them away.
Going to to the window, she grasps the curtain
to shut out the moon. Her shadow ripples
between the folds of the faded drapes -
a wasp, long dead, winnows to the sill.
"We'll pull some ivy from the fence out back
and braid some berried holly through the stalks
and pin the twigs along the walls, and Bert
the Herder gave me mistletoe - he gabs
romance, that man, but I know what he seeks.
And once we've spruced the room we'll find a fir
for potting, drag it here so you can wrap
that tinsel round it: Christmas done on the cheap!"
The grin on the face of her Gran is crooked
and whole, and good, and the girl can't help
but to smile in return - a tacit ceasefire.