The Snows

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.