Snow burst upon me in the night
And for most of the morning the field
Was a white paradise of loneliness
As i'm told the sky used to be.
The wind came at me sideways
A confusion leaning in close
To confess I don't know I don't know.
A crow rode the gusts asking why.
What the wind said, that is what i say.
—with a phrase from Seamus Deane
and a concept from William Sttafford
