First Snow

There is no lady or gentleman
stirring above. The art is made
in single tears and freezing-
reveals only aimless gasps.

There is no father or mother
to observe this cotton cosmos
blotting out shadows, correcting
comic errors on the path

The breath has a thousand directions.
The stars land anywhere, and die.

First Snow

aperollshowers

Joined January 2008

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

I wrote this poem after doing a close reading of Longfellow’s “Snowflakes” and Emerson’s “The Snowstorm”. As I was putting down my books, I looked up and saw the first snow of the year outside my Boston apartment. I watched it for an hour or so, and then I wrote the piece- something of that moment remains in the poem, which is why I chose to share it here.

Tags

poetry

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