Frozen Fields

My grandmother drove me to the train
that winter I was four,
through the threadbare fields of Indiana
with their ragged patches of snow.
I was on my way
to my mother in New York,
excited about the journey
and the prospect of being with her again,
but I remember
not so much the excitement
as passing through those wintry fields,
as if time were deep-frozen
in memory.
(19 November 1999)

The poems are in topical series, the first and current series being “Memories”.