PAPER SNOW (assigned V2)

on my father's death  


January skies can bend

At times like wrinkled paper sheets,

Snow clouds doubled end on end

So their opposite directions meet:


Just as scallops on the drapes

Form dimension from a pleat,

Or the way a blizzard knits warm shapes

Out of layerings of sleet,


So we scissor shadows into light

And cut our profiles on the sill,

Twisting evenings into night

Beside the window's frozen grill.


From little more than pages

We sketch convincing fakes

In thing, beginning stages,

Of fathers, dolls, or flakes


That we now unfold to show,

Sprung like frost from last night's snow,

And hang up finally on the stair

To line the walls with cardboard air.