Through the window I watch the snow fall
Thick and soft
And I try to come up with some fresh metaphor,
But all I can say
Is that the snow blankets,
Smothers the shrieks of college snowball fights
Which do not remind me of the call of gulls
Nor are they like a howling wind
Or any other metaphor.
They are screaming, laughing college students.

I watch the snow fall
and smother
before turning back to my beadwork
(which is also nothing special).
It’s just beadwork.
Somewhere in my heart a sadness lies heavy,
that I cannot see this imagery
or feel anything more or less
than unworthy.