Snowballing the moon 

into a fist

 

//

 

soft kisses by light

trickles

of hair parting

like breadcrumbs

//

 

dying isn’t so bad 

my mother says

 

//

 

We lie side by side 

on a hospital bed

bodies braided

as she watches the first 

fallings of snow

cover the garden outside

 

//

 

They placed her in the

kids’ section of the hospital

children run by   

with billowing hospital garbs

 

//

 

little kites aimlessly floating

 

//

 

I draw back 

her hair

Pull out the white ones

she says

but the snow has ploughed the field

it has destroyed everything in its wake

 

//

 

Years ago we were

burying bad memories

in the snow

of men who left

of kites that went loose

and now it has piled up

and turned against us

 

//

 

The moon descends the hill

slowly 

always 

slowly

 

//

 

When I say

goodnight

frost

creeps over us