The Memory of Snow
(For Michael and Alex)
I. The Snow Teacher
“Yes,” Snow whispers,
“I remember . . .
The Language of Her
Cautiously
Confide fear to me
With question steps
‘Til each one leapt
Then echoed
Buoyantly
And the Little Girl
Learned
To swim In me
Like a Black Swan.”
“Yes,” Snow whispers,
“I remember That One.”
II. The Fisher Boy
Within His dream
He prays He dreams.
But His heart
Alone
Discerns
The truth is true . . .
Awake, asleep.
A candle-like
Memory
Burns.
He casts His eyes
Across the ripples of
Her body’s wake through time . . .
Not yet to infinity
Not yet as glass
This pattern a perfect mime . . .
His cast
A perfect line . . .
For reeling memories.
III. The Snow Boy
“Yes,” Snow whispers,
“I remember . . .
The Language of You
Traipsing paths across my face
Calling for Her
Creating a place
Where you
Believed
There could be love . . .
You were
Eager to love . . .
. . . More, to be loved, deeply
In those first, real
Steps of boy-youth . . . those steps
Earlier
Frozen away . . .
By blizzard.”
“Yes,” Snow whispers,
“I remember
The Language of You.”
IV. The Snow Man
He looks for Her steps
In Snow’s memory
Like returning to sleep
To finish his dream . . .
. . . Tears well in his eye-ponds
Like tadpoles
To sand
They drop to the snow
And he sees as a man.
V. The Beginning
Fisher boy
Casting . . .
Snow boy
Dreaming . . .
Snow man
Awakened
To what is true . . .
You loved.
You were loved.
“Yes,” Snow whispers,
“Now this is the Language of You.”
Margot
January 14, 2001
2007-07-07
19:50:44
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