Snow

Snow
is the accumulation
of brushstrokes:
Monet’s Magpie
Hassam’s Late Afternoon New York Winter
Renoir’s Skates in the Bois de Boulogne -
framed by my windows
which I can fly through
on this island of passing days
when summer feels
as distant
as the length of longing

My memories

are a mad flurry of

hexagonal plates and stellar dendrites
that land like parachutes
on a wintered battlefield 

of insistent jasmine

which has survived

the casualties

and blizzards of the heart.
reminding me
that weather
is as brief 

and lonely 

as 

the daydream that created it.