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
