FIRST SNOW

Whatever joy the first snow brought

has long subsided. Falling without end

across upstate New York,

beyond the window

snow mantles snow,

white fact cancels white fact.

Your days fill with snow.

For one unaccustomed to boots,

just stepping outside is trouble.

My wife and son head off for their sweet nap,

his bike,“Red Rock-It”,

propped at the stoop,

half-buried.

The washer thrums and spins,

the apples on the table at peace,

the English-Chinese dictionary, at peace.

My steps,

measuring the stillness,

more silent.

A glance toward the snowy hills, distant, veiled.