Snow Travels
 |
| Judith Janoo, probably taken on a summer day |
light and down
in this kingdom
sweeps parallel
as supine you gaze,
question why remain,
and miss the great escape
south or west
still braced against
last week’s freeze
that wheezes, moans
bone scrapes bone
until at once unleashed
into white silence
you travel as wind crystals
over neighbor’s blue van
abandoned, up to its wheels
in white, over roofless shed
left open to soft fragments
falling over the woodpile
lining the drive
lighting on fir saplings
bowed down and higher,
birches regal parchment
cleaving and even these
peeled, dried,
crowned.
