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Snow ii

by Jason Wardell

  I
am
pull-
ing snow
from my hair
by the handful and
patting down my gloves, into
pockets, stomping feet serves a dual
purpose: my feet are numb, wet, and--heavily at
first, moderately second, lightly third packed snow
and I am lingering at the handle as it emanates cold
grasping it now, turning and opening, and as I take
a deep breath and step inside my glasses become
fogged over completely and you laugh
and take them off for me and
your grin radiates
warmth I’ll
remember
later
as
I
go.
I
am
pull-
ing snow
from my hair
by the handful and
patting down my gloves, into
pockets, needing to stomp my feet be-
cause they are numb, wet and heavily packed snow
trying lightly at first, then moderately shaking my
feet and lingering at the handle as it emanates cold
just one second too long or I stomped too loud when
I heard you sigh through the door and cough as
if to say, “You may as well come in.”
but I pretend to be someone
else somewhere else
turning back
into the
wind
as
I
go.
I
am
pull-
ing snow
over my face
by the handful and
dropping my gloves down into
pockets of earth and ice, needing to
stomp my feet because they still have sensation
but I have no feet to stomp and I am at first light
second moderate third heavy packed into drifts and I
am at your doorstep, I accumulate and blow into the
wall piling higher and reaching and lingering at
your handle but slide off and settle
but you have moved to warmer
climes and are not
inside, I fly
into the
wind
and
I
go.
I
am
pack-
ed snow
and my face
and hair are packed
into pockets of earth and ice
and packed into pockets of your house
this season is numbing and I am seclusion and I
am monotony and I am discomfort even if I am masked
by the way I catch and distort light and emanate the
moon's brilliant glow and I am at once moderate and
light and heavily amassed as I cling desperate
to the handle the door the windows
and walls and I am grasping
your house at once
witness my
refusal
to
go.
I
am
pour-
ing snow
over your doorway
witness my beauty and wrath
you are inside wishing for warmer
climes and wishing for the end of winter and
the renewal of spring just as I wished for the same
and you don't dare peek outside lest you remember me.

12/23/2009

Author's Note: Merry Christmas.

Posted on 12/24/2009
Copyright © 2021 Jason Wardell

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Ava Blu on 12/24/09 at 04:14 PM

this is striking. lovelovelove it. added to my favorites. I love every bit of it. The movement in it with the format is f*cking madly brilliant. "I am seclusion and I am monotony and I am discomfort even if I am masked by the way I catch and distort light and emanate the moon's brilliant glow" - for some reason these lines hit me the most

Posted by Tony Whitaker on 12/25/09 at 04:56 AM

What a brilliant visual poem! Beautiful!!

Posted by Glenn Currier on 12/26/09 at 05:53 PM

I was a strand of yarn stuck to your boots twirling myself around each curving limb of this poem. I like the conjunction of the human story with the reality of earthmoods. Striking and interesting poem. Thanks for the gift. Happy Holidays to you.

Posted by Linda Fuller on 09/05/15 at 02:56 AM

Strangely lovely and moving poem - into favorites.

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