Weather Woes

The weather’s warmed up lately, which always feels like a disappointment in the dead of winter; I’m not ready to think about spring, now that I’ve just gotten used to the quiet and the snow.  So for today a(nother) poem about snow.

First snow

never as exciting as you’d like
but still: quiet flakes accumulate
white by white until it seems as though
all along it’d rested there.
I’ve been four months without
you. Nothing gets easier.
Always wanted to share a
winter with you, one like this
even if it’s not as impressive as say
Decembers of my childhood
massive banks of drift and wind
snicking ice under the door.
Each one individual—
what bullshit. They all look
the same.
What matters is the idea
of difference, of making something
special out of nothing.
I’ll give each flake to you.
Say, look what I found.
A deer’s tail flighting
in the woods. A wolf-
dog’s eye: catch before it
blinks and then

is gone.


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