Old Snow

A poem about the nature of things.

Old Snow
crunches under foot.
Crystalline empire undone.
The indifferent world turns away
all thawing and green shoots
& you diminish,
sulking into the dead ground.
What do I say, Old Snow?
Howl again your fury.
Breathe your forbidding cold.
Blizzard the world in white.
Or, melt away.
Become the river.
I’ll walk barefoot
in the spring.