For Jim G
I've seen the fall of gentle snow,
crystal arms outstretched,
encasing heaviness.
I'm chilled by the rush of them, hastening earthward,
They add, one, by one, to the pattern,
threatening burial.
Did some of their brothers die on my tongue?
Has my breath pushed them
downwards?
Once I was blinded by eyeblink.
Now I teach hovering.
Hover!
