Three Winters — andrew condouris

Year One

I’m slowly disappearing in your eyes.

The snow is dreaming. And we are dreaming.

The moonlight filters through your sheets, and we're

Afloat in stars—what are we floating through?

The frozen river cracks its mouth agape

And glimmers cross the mute infinite.

Allow this winter’s bliss come overdue,

Let go your heart, your valves, your jagged beat.

Another train horn groans, another squealing rail song.

Year Two

The border agent wants us to explain

How we should come to be together. But

Our love has left the station, took that train

Into the holy dark of empty skies.

And now, no horns, no squeals—passports void.

It’s true the tracks will merge until they're one,

Yet truer still our destinations set.

“I can’t remember who is who!” you cry.

I do remember, sweet; I hope you tell me someday.

Year Three

Here comes a snow leopard, spots all rearranged.

Here comes a raven circling till the ground

Is dry again, and Dove comes up the south.

And here’s a sled dog sniffing in the hand

Of Master’s corpse. Because of us, this soul

of gold rush dreams, this dreaming giant, was killed.

I don’t believe that, really, but the snow

Inside my head has taken on a form.

And what have I become? A fox adrift in blizzard.