illumination
I couldn’t sleep.
I got up to see if the clouds had parted
enough to let me see Orion,
but the entire sky was
blanketed in an even, dull grey-white;
the light from
celestial long-ago explosions dispersed evenly
through the muted veil of clouds
reflecting the brilliant white of
snow and the flecks of fire
in ice.
at two am, I could see all the way to the horizon,
rimmed with the faintest aura of far-away ocean-hope.
but here, the layers of multiple blizzards
keep piling on.
the temperature rises just a notch
and combined with a burst from the
unfaithful sun, the surface
snowflakes melt
enough to let light enter and refract.
for a few hours, the whole world shines and sparkles.
but molecules tire and slow down to a freeze again
just in time for a new
layer of powder to coat, matte, and seal
the cracks.
I’ve always wondered why humans prefer snow over ice.
it’s prettier, maybe.
and ice makes capitalism grind to a halt -
punctuated by semi-trucks forced to idle
and wait
for black ice to be covered with salt
and melted away.
but all we’ve done is forced a change of state.
water is water.
and I often forget
that every year for at least three months
happiness goes into hibernation.
the sun might not come out today,
but I’ve just seen the brightest night.