Bells and Other Sorrows, IV

IV.
Snow.

The snow falls heavy here
a frozen eiderdown to slip under
and dream
and dream of you
but the dirt underneath
is the colour of tar
and full of stone

In the thin air
at the top of the mountain
the voices of bells bells
bells ringing
but it is a lament

I wrote you a letter
nine pages, typed, single-spaced
desperate measures, I guess
to pull your thread to me:
you were an ocean away

In my post box, a card
you sent me in return
wrapped in a green envelope

"Good luck in your new home!" it said
enjoy your imaginations
of what might be it said
write again if you want it said
otherwise, trust in fate
the destination sometimes
does not live up
to our expectations

I'm not so sure I'm comforted

I crunch my way
back through the dirt-sullied snow
eiderdown light
frozen
heavy as stone