The wind is steep and near. Come snow.
The children wait for you. They say
The earth will drop and fill in white.
They wait for you tonight, for you.
The dimensions of the sky loosen and start to slip out,
No longer pasted together with light.
The bottomless side has already fallen
The snow lowers in slants.
Like a crate it leans
And claps onto the earth
This poem has appeared in the Washington Review's December 1986-January 1987 issue.