SNOW DAY, AUGUST

Let’s have a snow day in August and let it go on a very long time.

Let the falling flakes dissolve every appointment.

Let the soft bank of invisible snow piling up at the door become a cold heap, solemn in the blue light, growing, not growing under the constant fall.

Let me watch, not act.  Let me not have to shovel ever.

The light outside is the light inside, only the wall divides.

The snow makes everything quiet.  It keeps people off the streets, like a hurricane, but is not noisy, never saying Look at me.  Listen to me.

If you go out in snow every step is tentative.  You clutch at the rails and set down your foot carefully as if it were made of solid bone.  There is no grip.  If you drive you could veer off, desperately even if it is slow. 

In snow, if you get there, standards drop.  Everyone is stunned by the bright light and turns toward the door Oh boy you got here.  And that is enough.