A year has the same makeup as a snowflake
the same principles of science and magic mix to make the two exist
falling from the sky like time itself
each one separate from the rest, yet, born from the same cloud.
I pack a snowball and aim it right for the future
my target across the street.
I throw wide the first time, but I’m confident I’ll hit it
we are rich with snow
and I can spend all the time in the earth
and until I’m buried in it
I’ll make snow angels.