The Snow Arrives After Long Silence by Nancy Willard The snow arrives after long silence from its high home where nothing leaves tracks or strains or keeps time. The sky it fell from, pale as oatmeal, bears up like sheep before shearing. The cat at my window watches amazed. So many feathers and no bird! All day the snow sets its table with clean linen, putting its house in order. The hungry deer walk on the risen loaves of snow. You can follow the broken hearts their hooves punch in its crust. Night after night the big plows rumble and bale it like dirty laundry and haul it to the Hudson. Now I scan the sky for snow, and the cool cheek it offers me, and its body, thinned into petals, and the still caves where it sleeps.
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