You wrote
You can fit an average snow crystal
inside this letter ‘O’.

Time slipped into our kiss.
We thought we didn’t need tomorrow.
It’s nothing but a sound of crows in winter,
a space of bare sunlight where the pines once were,
how things become impossible.

Dazzle filled our eyes, and a white silence
flooded our mouths, dumbfounding us.
It was a sight at first we took for beauty,
a swan’s rush and a strike of angels
stealing away the ground.
We stared for what seemed like hours,
enchanted as in childhood;
only slowly did it dawn on us, at last,
that we were snowbound.