12/26/12 the wind moves along lighter of snow the road has been cleared but no one uses it our houses are as warm as veins and they brighten up at once when the sun sinks: our houses' light come to settle in the nation of snow something we have left over from a childhood of winter storms runs to tell us how glad it is the snow fills it how happy it is with the weight the snow presses and with the light of it it suspects is not reflected but born within