• Absolutely Splendid Poem From The Poet Laureate: ‘Snow’

    by  •  • Posterous

    Then all the dead opened their cold palms
    and released the snow; slow, slant, silent,
    a huge unsaying, it fell, torn language; settled,
    the world to be locked, local; unseen,
    fervent earthbound bees around a queen.
    The river grimaced and was ice.


    ?????????????? Go nowhere-
    thought the dead, using the snow-
    but where you are, offering the flower of your breath
    to the white garden, or seeds to birds
    from your living hand. You cannot leave.
    Tighter and tighter, the beautiful snow
    holds the land in its fierce embrace.
    It is like death, but it is not death; lovelier.
    Cold, inconvenienced, late, what will you do now
    with the gift of your left life?

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