“A Mind of Winter”
I like the way that snow alters sound, remakes the visual. Changes the touch and feel. It turns our words into clouds. Vanishes on our lips. Our tongues too vivid a furnace for it to linger long. It falls in a soft forever…and then, like the poem says, it tightens. Makes ghosts of what we know. It whitens to blank.
How soothing. How terrible. How perfect.