The Snows

Robert Huff

As sudden as the geese the first snow was,
Patterned and shaping summer: so we fell
Into the absolution of our seeds'
Affluent piety and knew the Sun,
The blessing Sun, burned white eternity.

Still, came the late snow. The barking birds moved on
And soon were gone, leaving a cotton sound
In the air, the muffled steeples looming strong
Above layers of silence: and we fell,
Abandoned, to the ringing of the bells.