• I never know
    just where to go
    when all the world
    is full of snow.

    I do not want
    to make a track,
    not even
    to the shed or back.

    I only want
    to watch and wait,
    while snow moths settle
    on our gate, and swarming frost flakes
    fill the trees
    with millions
    of albino bees.

    I only want
    myself to be
    as silent as
    a winter tree,

    to here the swirling
    stillness grow,
    when the world is full of snow.