Heart, My Box of Snow

made it to Florida

and then I went for a walk.   

The frog pond is half-iced over.

I chucked a stick at it—

still thin. On the white side,   

the wind twirled a leaf around   

like a prepubescent figure skater

who’s given up her childhood

to get here. Of course, the leaf

was wearing its practice costume

of browns, the whole world   

offed of spangles as I am   

offed of you. Why   

mail snow? Just to show

I could keep it cold

in so much heat.