never hold snow
an ode
“Winter’s my favourite though. Stars are snow. Flakes that haven’t yet fallen to earth, tiny white frozen fires descending from the sky in lovely twirls. I joined them, in pirouettes and leaps across the yard, trying to get one to land and burn cold in my opened hand — I imagined, the whole day, sitting inside, a wee girl looking out, all ways, always, even, oh my, when it wasn’t a blizzard.”
“One winter night I dreamt of cold little suns landing on each of my fingertips — in slow motion I saw their icy coronas melting into every whorl. I woke up that morning, looked out, and wow found sparkles in the thousands, a whole flattened galaxy, a snowy Milky Way on the ground, which I so longed to walk upon, like a wizard.”
“A wonder to walk, wipe a drip from lips after a summer ice cream… So I’ll never hold snow, now I know, or a baby or even a balloon, or ever hand out Easter eggs or unwrap a Halloween candy (these hands in all seasons such terrible weather, my tiny twisting tornados), and hey there’s no playing a guitar tune or catching a bouquet or being the queen of a Mardi Gras parade (though take note of these gorgeous legs!), and of course no jumping about like a silly goat like the little ones...”
“But I do go out many a day now, and for certain every time it snows I’m out on the sidewalk, whether it’s shovelled, or, you know, completely covered. In the Nutcracker air I motor and I spin (my aide-brushed hair turning a red mess in the wind!) and I stick out my tongue, and I catch those cold little suns.”
NOTES:
original structure:
Winter’s my
favorite though
stars are snow
flakes that haven’t yet
fallen to earth
tiny white frozen fires
descending from the sky
in lovely twirls
I joined them with pirouettes
and leaps across the yard
trying to get one to land
and burn cold
in my opened hand
I imagined
the whole day
sitting inside
a wee girl
looking out all ways
always
even oh my
when it wasn’t
a blizzard.
One winter night I
dreamt of cold little suns
landing on each
of my fingertips
in slow motion
I saw
their icy
coronas
melting into every whorl
I woke up that morning
looked out and wow found
sparkles in the thousands
a whole flattened galaxy
a snowy Milky Way
on the ground
which I so longed
to walk upon
like a wizard.
A wonder to walk
wipe a drip from lips after
a summer ice cream.
So I’ll never hold snow
now I know
or a baby or even a balloon
or ever hand
out Easter eggs
or unwrap a
candy for Halloween
these hands
in all seasons
such terrible weather
my tiny twisting tornados
and hey
there’s no
playing a guitar tune
or catching a bouquet
or being the queen
of a Mardi Gras parade
though take note
of these gorgeous legs
and of course no
jumping about
like a silly goat
like the little ones.
But I do go
out many a day
now and for certain
every time it snows
I’m out on the sidewalk whether
it’s shovelled or you know
completely covered and in
the Nutcracker air
I motor and I spin
my aide-brushed hair
turning a red mess in the wind
and I stick out my tongue
and I catch those
cold little suns.
All photos from “The Window” photo project by K.I.A. are caught completely by chance, 24/7/365 from a single location — no staging, nothing planned, nothing added — later grouped visually, metaphorically, thematically, synchronistically, euphemistically, empathically and erhmagerdistically as an evolving, interconnected and recombinant installation:
BONUS (haiku #2):
I’m a Ferrari:
Four wheels, and people always
Turn to look at me
