Strange snow falls in a strange dream.
It never touches my skin,
and on my tongue
more like ash than snow.
The streetlight just below the hill
is closer than I remember.
And our house was never this near to the ocean in winter.
But everything changes, here
where the snow falls like stars
with smaller ones in orbit.
The path is covered over and white.
The trees are only hints,
hiding behind the electric glare.
We make a new way through the night,
using our coats as sleds and our arms to row,
knowing wherever it takes us, it will be somewhere new.