The Innocence of Snow
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Wherever snow is, it is always just
Like snow in other places. Snow in Rome
And Paris lies just like the holy dust
Of manna in the desert, or at home,
Wherever home might be. Iced Beijing’s robes,
Imperial in velvet silk, are white
Like Moscow’s. Orthodox shaped onion globes
Are crowned there, slashed/slashed cross in gold, at height,
Just what the Sons of Heaven, Czars had known.
The snow rests light and heavy in the dawn
In Alexander’s Pella from which groan
On groan his empire grew. On the lawn
The White House snow hunkers, imperial,
Whence Trump spread evil power, venereal.