Snow

This is what
you have waited for. Transformation
brought on by stillness, when
the water makes

no move except to be caught in drift—

all that it is
captured
in the sudden descent of cold.

Amongst the shroud of its broad,
white, immaculate sameness
you must know who
you are; it is
what will save

you. You

are the human
in the center of the snow. You are
time’s vessel making
way through the frozen

world. In a place where wind defines
all motion, you are the only
thing that moves
on its own.

You are singularity,
temporary, momentarily
endless—like a cloud of breath
expelled and joined
into the chilling sheaths of the limitless air.