Snow falls heavily today
and everywhere the whiteness floats
in reeling, swirling skeins, like long white sheets –
the winding sheets of birth and death –
that wrap the cold year at its end
yet cover softly the beginnings of the next.
And in these circling analogs of time
each storm remains its own – yet this snow
is sister to those that were and those to come.
For in its winding sheets of death and birth –
– a whitened chrysalis of time –
the year turns and past gives way
to the infant future that is now.
