The Trend Of Sky

Snowflakes here fall up, not down,
Bits of foam blown
Sideways by the wind,
Unlocked from earth and destined

To become rockets
Riding thermals in the night,
Snow bed floating like a kite
On the roller-coaster sprockets

Of the air, so that by chance,
While the general trend
Is down, the current end
Of heaven, dense with dance

And freezing glaze
Is not so grave
As gravity’s thick haze
Or as weighted as a wave,

But more like glee,
Where leaping from the ground
Is apt, lest we,
Outshone, be lured and drowned.

Paris
June 14th, 2003, 9:55–10:44 AM