Poetry: “YOSEMITE IN DECEMBER” by Laurie Lessen Reiche

Every snowflake is an electric light of love, molecular

kisses tissue-thin coasting down from heaven’s

arboretum with drifts of frigid sweet alyssum

falling, falling, falling in pieces carrying remnants of serenity

and angelic peace from that snowy place so high above.

Each flake falls so quietly clinging to the one that went before,

as does the next and next until one branch alone may carry

a four-inch-high load of snow resembling a garland made of white

chrysanthemums balancing on the thinnest arms. In all directions

snow-covered trees, good trees that deserve this luxury of winter.

And although I wish I could die here now right this minute in the midst

of heaven’s brilliant bridal shower, its falling confetti, I know it will be

a death withheld. My home is not among these mountains. My destiny

is in a town among trees who would be shocked to see snow fall; my trees

are naive, suburban, they distrust the wild upheaval of winter, they distrust

the white hypnosis of snow, are devoted to winter being green with hollow

clouds. They will never release me, never let me live in this light.