That winter the mountains were 20 feet taller
And I burrowed into my corner of the house
Like an animal

The pigeons sat in a line
On the Home Improvement sign
Their collars pulled up
In a cold there is no name for

The parking lots were sheets
Of ice
With ant hills
A tall light pole reaching out
Each opening
Lighting our ant ways
Through tunnels of snow

I called to say
“I miss you”
You said:
“It’s snowing in Chicago”
And I want to say
“It’s snowing here too, without you”

That winter things were filled
With winter
Chairs, pots, trees
My head
My dishware

That winter was a vast field
Between two people
And the hush of the winter trees
And the winter sky
And all the snowflakes that fell between them.