Snowfall

I am not afraid of the snow; the

snow is afraid of me. It shivers in warm

delicious fear in my presence,

melting away, tear drop after tear drop

Cold, sweet, crisp

Bitter

I am not afraid of the snow.

The snow is afraid of me

But one of these days, when old age has stretched

its finger around my neck,

and I am lying breathless in my bed,

the snow

will cover me like beautiful death

and never have to fear me again.