November Snow Wants to Be Something It Isn’t

reds oranges yellows even greens
can’t be overcome by white
the year has gotten so old
not old enough to remember / why

do I have to explain
the absence of trees
in Iceland
isn’t the image enough

slurry flurry
It will fade
by morning
with tonight’s stars

I say good-bye
not to the river
I say good-bye
not to the people

I say good-bye
to a view
a proximity a perspective
a cache of stories

worth retelling
in new light

the day my father died
I walked the river for hours
the nearest body of water
that moved him

every waterfront
is another bear hug
smiling eyes damp with tears
I inherited

I am saying good-bye
to him again
over and over again
the rush of the falls

someone lights a fire
to warm the room
the Mississippi’s not going anywhere
please don’t be a lie

2 thoughts on “November Snow Wants to Be Something It Isn’t

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