I.

If a snowflake fell for every man,
Child, woman, barking dog and sleeping cat,
For every cancer cell, for every aborted fetus,
All coming down, down, down
To one square tile of my bathroom floor,
I might have an ice monolith, and a puddle
In the morning.


II.

The something equinox when the sun
will stay in the sky for about how long it takes me to yawn.
When blankets stuffed with down and flannel lined slippers
are enough--
indoors, at least.
Outside, I can never get warm.
Even sweating on the ski slopes,
the wind finds a way past, and zippers seem a waste.
Maybe I need a better scarf.