on last night's full moon changing to snowfall...

 on last night's full moon changing to snowfall...

listen: do you

hear the snow's sly

arrival by night and

how at once the moon's

lace of light

lays on the lilac

branch then blots 

it as if it were sand

scattered

to dry the ink

on the letter 

someone or other

and ages ago

had just written

and how then it must

let itself be

tucked out

of sight 

and behind

the light 

and variable

 

wind of what

it has taken

up with?  

ah this  

snow after cupping

itself in the elbow

of a branch is

either a joy

or sudden

  

come to before

the slant 

fall at

that odd wind

driven tilt to be

settled and

caught albeit

briefly

on last autumn's

blossoms gone 

from living but not 

from life.