Love Poem Relying on an Ethnographer’s Myth
[Table of Contents]
[Editor's Note]
[Masthead]
[Guidelines]
[Resources]
Here is the word for snow
rising with a gust, one flake settling
onto a lower lip;
and here are the words
for snow falling upon a hedge, distinguishing
each twig, snow coating a ledge
marked with the three-pronged prints of chickadees,
the triangle resting in birch branches,
caught in spruce;
the months, their proper nouns separating the last
flurries from the first,
the verb indicating a last snow melting early
into the seed, the arced stem, the yellow flash of crocus;
the difference between snow on Christmas and on Epiphany,
snow casting light onto a photographed façade
and a photograph of snow;
the forms of angels in a backyard, snow dancing
on the hooded heads of children;
the adjective applied to northern constellations obscured by snow
or snow obscured through steam
drifting from the morning’s first coffee
brought to you in bed
on a tray with marmalade and buttered toast.
Receive these words, this world
billowing, raucous, abundantly falling.
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"Love Poem Relying on an Ethnographer's Myth" originally appeared in Poetry Northwest.
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Lynn Domina was born and raised in Michigan, and she currently resides in the Catskill region of New York. She has published one book of poetry, Corporal Works, and a reference book, Understanding "A Raisin in the Sun." Her poems appear in recent issues of Quarterly West, Prairie Schooner, Crazyhorse, Poetry Northwest, and many other periodicals. [email]