my brother & i in an april snow.

when i was twelve
the earth rejected the idea
of spring-- 
frost strangled the hyacinths
& made them scream--
each bell ringing 
while we tried to sleep
with the phantom of a snow
storm pacing in the 
hall outside our bedrooms--
spring slept on the cement floor
of the basement--
she cried like a wind chime.
outside the snow fell
in a pillow fight
until there was nothing
left to remember other
than a window
& you & i still
had overall snow pants--
mine green & yours blue--
the snow piled up to
my calves--
what do you know about
being full of absences?
we felt our skin evict us &
crawled out the windows
to wash ourselves
in emptiness--
leave a memory of footprints--
i put you 
in the neon orange sled to begin the 
trek to the school yard hill
we would slide down
only the snow got thicker
& thicker
we became the static screen
on the television--
opened our mouths only
to hear the crinkling of airwaves--
the swish of steel wool
rubbed against the belly of
the sink--
you dropped your snow
boots & said that everything
felt prickly--
i said-- no i promised
that we would get home--
we traded hands-- breathed
mist into each other's
red faces--
your hands felt like gloves--
we laid on our backs in the
sled & for the first
time i remember thinking
how easy it could be
to die-- 
i could see our house--
tall & contorted 
against the heavy grey of the sky
what intrigues me most
about this memory is that
i don't remember how we got home--
i can only recall us with out
snow boots
kicked off contemplated how
long it would take for the snow 
reclaim us both--
the next week there would be grass
again-- you would
call me sister & i would
call you brother
& we would not speak
of the time when we both
mixed together to become
nothing but static-- part of
loving someone is understanding 
how full of absences they are--
if it snows again in april
i hope you'll have someone
who loves you enough
to keep you even
when the sky empties 
you out in bucket-fulls.