Spring 1996 • Vol. XVIII No. 2 PoetryApril 1, 1996 |

Dance of the Snowflakes

I have never paid the weather enough mind, never    taken the year's turnings    as intimations or longings       of any but my own and not some human,       global or cosmic condition   so it's time to start dancing attention     on the snow, not the snow        we shove out     of the driveway and the plow        plows back in, not the creaking and shushing        snow beneath my skis but   the breathtaking white body    we can apprehend        if we care to, its crystal        glint and shimmer, its structural        miracle    its ability to suspend our intellectual pertinacity   so the revelation it's snowing    descends with accumulations    of flutes and violins       in an insistent           swirl           a circular       fl

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