The night air is extraordinarily
cold, rarefied – prompts me to consider
if I had considered the language

It is snowing
then I thought simply

It snows
or simpler

Snowing
and still

just
Snow

sparkling
dry falling
night squadrons
wee icy crystals
cascade down her lashes
freeze cheeks
numb kisses
her lips
quickly

we are the first
to warm ankle-deep in
Snowfall

Chagall 2015

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