Snow falls and the darkness drowns in silence, a hush
from heaven, falling, so slowly, even crystals cry.
Are these the tears of angels weeping who’ve watched us
falling, like this slow snow, like tears, trembling?
Snow falls and there’s a stillness and still this silence
between us. Bruises covered in a cold candid coating
of fragility, every day more freezing, more frozen,
just not enough to numb. Snow falls and paths disappear.
I thought our tracks ran deeper, like this winter, this weight,
like this waiting, behind the window, behind this glass
I can’t see through, beyond the storm falling, Slow falls
the snow and sorrow slips, cold where once there was comfort.
What happens to my tears, who’ll watch them with wonder
as I look out at the snow, slowly falling, and think of angles?
Wasn’t I once your angel? Are you watching, now, at some
slow distance while these snowflakes concrete all confusion?
In time, this too shall melt and be no more than memory,
even snowflakes fall for but a season. Snow, falling, slow.
Wishing it were spring. Even white is blue in the falling light.
All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly
Audio version available on Soundcloud
Damien B. Donnelly 