Dream in Which My Body Is a Snow Storm

and doesn’t make anyone cold. If I fell I would fall

in state-shaped flakes. One for every place my body

lingered. One for every little bit of light I stole

and kept. No cars startless. No tangled up roadways. Neck

becoming mountain of drift; foot becoming fierce kicking

eddies. Heat would not melt me. Hands would not help

me undo. Blanketing softly. Whimsy not pretend.

Dream in which my body is a snowstorm and the storm says

a purpose in falling.