Early Snows

Winter’s long arms flung wide,
her fingertips chilling the close hours and
stretching past the blanched tomorrows –
we take her hand as a mother’s.

Let us linger and leer at yellow leaves,
shivering in accordance with the season.

Please, let us not remark on
how a part may die and drift away
while the remainder slumbers,
fed by dreams.

leaden snow

here I am now,
snow-shackled and blinded,
staring at the sky without seeing heaven;
feet planted on an earth without meaning.
There’s a chill creeping through me,
wet and meandering as the
foul, gray snow piling,
piling,
spilling from mountaintops and drowning
the flowers, freezing
my feet.
the snow is hateful and dextrous,
crawling under pantlegs and into
boots,
under caps and coats and
it stays with you,
much longer than you wish,
well past the melt,
it stays with you,
and the spring has come every year yet,
but maybe not this one,
maybe the snow will stay with us.