What the Snow Tells Me
--for Kenneth Patchen

. . . that you will come again--

a magical drifting
longed for, mourned and

a storm of sound
followed by
a silencing of the trees

heavy with life

Everything that is
unspoken is with us
now as it always was

Pieces of sky falling
in wonder.

What she gave to you--
becoming her

What you wrote--
becoming you

Wintry limbs
striking against
the clouded air

immediate as snow

falling and falling