trust 

i woke up
in the dark cold
of the freezer--
this will preserve
things-- down
here time moves
slower-- between
the raw
chicken thighs
& shoe-string potatoes
i turn over--
last night 
i saw they
were calling for
snow & i thought
i could think
my way out of it--
thought that maybe
there was some
way i could
prevent
the inevitable
freezer door
from
shutting on my house--
prevent this stillness
in my body--
i'm terrified  
most by snow's promise
of early silence--
of immobility &
patience--
how dare a sky
be so patient for
me-- 
i drew
a thermostat 
in the driveway
& told it to
be summer--
shouted into
the milky grey
clouds to thunder--
to pour hot steam--
under my covers 
i pictured
the heat 
reverberating
off the sidewalk from
a distance--
as if i alone
could control
the arrival of
the a season &
somewhere i
felt spring
stir beneath 
the layers of
white sheets--
mouth full of
bulbs & rain--
she thought
i was amusing--
the tiny mortal
boy on the back
stoop-- rubbing
his hands together 
& stuffing them
into his pockets--
nose & cheeks
a dull gala-apple
red--
i think heaven
is certainly
made of snow--
that kind of
light snow
that is so 
wild that 
it doesn't even
stick to your skin--
blows around
like sand dunes
or pollen--
the windows
bloom with 
snow angle
kisses--
i do enjoy the
morning--
the holy morning
before the snow
blowers start
chewing
into our muscles--
the time
when time moves
so slowly that
the snow simply
hangs in the air--
where i stare up
from where 
i lay & wait
for someone
to open the
freezer door
so that the light will
turn on--
Billy is probably
going
to make those
yellowish frozen
waffles--
unknowingly he
may push me aside
to grab them--
only to
shut the door again
& i'll be here
in the intimate
dark--
believing
down through
layers of
white-- burrying
myself beside
the brisk
body of spring--
she kisses
my throat
full of
salt-- her teeth
yellow from
daffodils--
beneath my
boots the driveway
is gritty
from rock salt--
i melt down
to my knees--
to my hips--
past my forehead--
oh if only
i could have talked
the sky out of this--
instead i'll lay
here in bed--
packed in ice--
preserved--
safe from 
the nasty tongues
of time--
blue & reptilian--
do you trust
the snow?
i think i do--
at least i'm trying--