Any day now the first snow will come.
\nLike a ghost following me down the street.
\nAt midnight when the air is clear
\nas a secret pool at the bottom of a cave.
\nIt will come in a thin sheet of flurries,
\nas my eyes gaze at the sidewalk.
\nIn another place, in ripples of loneliness,
\nI pick out faces.
\nAt midnight when a man has no place
\nto go but in himself,
\nand a phantasmagoria approaches
\nfrom his back.<\/p>\n
In a moment, I will turn
\nand like a boy seeing his first love again,
\nshout inside himself.
\nOpening my arms to the snow
\nas it washes over my cheeks,
\nmy eyes moist with happiness.
\nA season of dark promises,
\nlightning flashing silently in the air.
\nI am being put to bed
\nwith my heart at peace.
\nThe first snow.
\nFaces in adjacent windows peering
\nfrom the darkness, joining me.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Any day now the first snow will come. Like a ghost following me down the street. At midnight when the air is clear as a…<\/p>\n