The Architecture of Snow
Jan 31 2011


Underneath the snow
earth is unexpectedly warm.
The planet’s molten core
pressing up.
Soil, slowly decomposing.
The body heat of rodents
scurrying to and fro
at ground level.
As foxes cock their ears
and hawks patrol,
outstretched wings
feathering the air
with lethal precision.

The winter garden
is dormant.
The uncut grass
too weak to stand,
its green chlorophyll spine
sucked dry.
And January sun
diffuses through the snow,
a blue electric glow
distilled from sunlight.

Ice crystals, and air
in a delicate balance
of compression and freeze and thaw,
until the architecture is lost,
and cold
penetrates to ground level.
When spring is too far off,
and frost
goes deep enough to kill.