Colleen O'Brien




The counting time the toys
the children eat their
candy wrappers every
where and we

in robes & spectacles
exchange mementos
mori this year’s load the
next year’s can we

toss this please? the strain
the lotions human
feet disfigured in
their shoes but too:

young bodies making un
intended life furor
sanandi in the cold
so why do old

men stand at windows
in the dark? it melts!
old man it turns
back toward

the sun we fill until
we flood until
we drain until
the cold again drink drink




plot &

the terrified

brain of a woman

question: what are things that          





I wrote "Winter" in the middle of drafting of a short story (still far from finished) that takes place at a Christmas party, when I got to thinking the really obvious thought that winter holidays are about taking time to look back on the year, what's happened, how we're all a little older, etc. The poem came together as a happy, frantic scribbling out of that, where the story had me—has me—moving slow.

"Scatter" was a word game I played to cheer myself up.