Snow falls slowly like
driblets of white molasses,
buying depleted time as
they drift down to
impenetrable ground.

Snow white pillows,
two for the taking,
bear contrasting forms,
come to their graves
at separate strokes.

Hair, black as chimney
gut, cover frozen feet,
now, forever untethered
from ballroom floors,
glittering under diamond eyes.

Hair, blue as heaven’s
head, knows not bold breeze
or branch’s balance, wings
unmoving–heart unfeeling,
all in one morning blink.

Unlikely companions in
false memory’s kettle, fade
into recesses of fable and fancy,
perceiving nothing save what I
have imagined.