Down blowing hills and broken skies
The future of our meadow flies:

The history of our landscape runs
Through Christmases of snowing suns

That freeze in place the Kodachrome
Of our snow globe’s swirling home,

An igloo where the floating frost
Catalogues the winters lost

(The irreversible parentheses
Of years more desolate than these),

Desperate human storms and rifts
Which the brilliant blizzard sifts

Through chasms and through sieves
Where the coming summer lives.

Tippet Alley
February 15th, 2006

Roscoe
July 31st, 2017