The Snow Queen i.m. Arthur Powell

Someone was expected with dark
nipples of kindness   a hand
beneath his head   my uncle plunges

into flakes of anger   a
window opens like a mouth and through
so much snow the road is

invisible   a pilgrimage one
must tread correctly or die   I watch
from inside the house  my uncle

disappears in a white
comedy  booze-fat and crippled  self-
loathing snickering in his

brain like pus   someone
was expected   hallucinated
out of ice   and if no mercy there

what of those who survive?   her flesh
wished for  is gentle   she will satisfy
all hungers when she comes   snow flies

ticking into my throat   I will let
my body stretch into a cold
and private path where my uncle

moves  all poems tell
of death   without which it would not
be necessary to speak

Originally published in Rehearsal for Dancers: Poems. Winnipeg, Canada: Turnstone Press, 1978.