The two old men sitting on the park bench
look in opposite directions
across the scuffled snow.
Both have hats, neither wears gloves.
Scarves are tucked into overcoats.
Their hands must be cold
and their feet too in the thin leather shoes.
Then they turn and look towards each other;
their eyes smile
and their fingers touch.
The ice-blue air is suddenly less bitter.
Tomorrow they will be here again.
let us go out into the snow hand in hand we two
and if the snow should fall
and we should fall
and the snow should cover us
so be it
under the snow grass
dreaming of summer sunlight
under the snow hope
snow drifts in white flags
lineless seamless blankness
below the surface green roots
I see you there
in the velvet spaces
between the snow and pines
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
