Snow in Auburn
More than once I have heard
your frosty winter promise whispered,
the fire crackle of your laughter,
felt your sorrow falling with the snap
of heavy branches in the woods.
Eternity, you roar so loud
it wakes me from my sleep; I stand
by the slamming screen door and stare,
wind sudden, deliberate, constant,
each gust stirring the empty field.
Though annuals stiffen, roses brown,
and hostas wilt, dawn will sigh
over blackness. I will ascertain answers
from each snowflake in six feet of snow.