And so the snow.

Far away the cactus flowering.

White morning making

my hands sting.

Lilies in a refrigerator

losing scent.

Tell me the weather

wherever you are.

Let snow send its angels—

lay down and wave

numb arms.

Deepening drifts.

We who are left

like mailboxes along a country road

huddle together in the cold

awaiting word.

-- Kevin Young