Snow
Once with my scarf knotted over my mouth
I lumbered into a storm of snow up the long hill
And did not know where I was going except to the top of it
In those days we went out like that
Even children went out like that
Someone was crying hard at home again
Raging blizzard of sobs

I dragged the sled by its rope
Which we normally did not do
When snow was coming down so hard
Pulling my brother whom I called by our secret name
As if we could be other people under the skin
The snow bit into my face, prickling the rim
Of the head where the hair starts coming out
And it was a big one. It would come down and down
For days. People would dig their cars out like potatoes

How are you doing back there? I shouted
And he said Fine, I’m doing fine
In the sunniest voice he could muster
And I think I should love him more today
For having used it
At the top we turned and he slid down
Steering himself with the rope gripped in
His mittened hands. I stumbled behind
Sinking deeply, shouting Ho! Look at him go!
As if we were having a good time
Alone on the hill. That was the deepest
I ever went into the snow. Now I think of it
When I stare at paper or into silences
Between human beings. The drifting
Accumulation. A father goes months
Without speaking to his son

How there can be a place
So cold any movement saves you

Ho! You bang your hands together
Stomp your feet. The father could die!
The son! Before the weather changes