waiting for the storm

it’s easier than you think
especially in the quiet
of invisible ink
first it’s there and then gone
all right

curse the wand
and the magic’s inner weight
takes flight and we learn to wait

what am I pining for?
this half-eaten heart of mine
what am I waiting for?

this handless time
remember when snow
wasn’t scary?

remember it meant

free to be contrary?
when the steps you took
over bodies wrapped in white
when you didn’t look
to the left or the right

only plodded in giant steps
away from the monster   

a small child in padding
demanding the answer

without a compass
unburdened by loveless

it’s easier than you think
in aging memory on a winter night
if you’ve caught a snowfall
in dreamlike flight
storms once had a life of their own

we had no fear of

those moments we owned

the snow will come in
a preordained storm

what we have still
is a place in our home
to venture outside when the
need is to roam
in snow or in rain
in sunshine or possibly war
it takes the same imagination
it demands the same score

a storm is a win when
you’ve plodded though it

snow never sins

only innocents know it
waiting for the storm

it’s easier than you think
especially in the quiet
of invisible ink
write it down

discard it

that trail embark it

no snowshoes, no mittens, no sled dog

to market

all’s swell what the hell
it’s midnight so fuck it