Nearing the end of a too busy week
it starts to snow. Dangerous
but soothing. Wherever you go,
take care. Your memories are too weak,

alone, to keep you alive. Yet
on the other side of the globe, a people
has perfected the art of appreciating
snow from inside their lives. Not

unlike flower arranging or pouring tea
correctly. Tonight I must drive through
hail and storm, down the steep and icy
trail, inside the tunnel dimly lit, me.