The pairs of footprints began in parallel
Sometimes overlapping in the overnight snow
I traced them across the dips and hollows
From where I stood next to the hilltop tree
On the last ascent to the cliff edge they parted
Until they each disappeared alone
I watched and waited until the last light faded
And the snow returned and covered the tracks
in the darkness snow falls, covers snowdrops
green heart quivers
daylight cracks unclouded sky
iced snow shields the living
new word: thundersnow
what on earth can that be like?
my heart in your hands
snow on sea
salt flake melts on tongue
single tear falls
I held ice tight in my hand
water trickled from my fist
to my forehead
Then my hand was empty
but my fist remained
blood frozen in its veins
I rubbed knuckles on my eyes
my heart drum noised
my temples throbbed
All memories swirled in snow
all memories swirled
in snow
snow smokes across the sunset
my eyesight starts to fail
tomorrow grows ever distant
The snow hushes my complaints as it slushes off my umbrella. “We’re sorry”, it says, “we’re April snow but we didn’t know”. It lies at my feet, is translucent and melts. Over the wall the river is rising, brown foaming.
snow dance
snow dances
sun snow
sun snow
snow dances
snow danced
Light slices in through ice-swirled windows, high-piled snow deflecting its morning angle. Inside the room hot breath and sweat hang like mist, and fog the floor-length mirror. A finger could draw an arrow or a heart, write a promise or a threat. For now, like the overnight snow, the mirror remains inviolate.
magpies hop in snow
shifting Rorschach trickery
eager cat’s tail flicks
