To Write You

If the snow lightly dances on the evergreens outside

Perhaps I will write to you then.

If you could return to our white bridge in memory

I’d press my pen on paper.

As I walk that pristine path of ephemeral cold

I’d imagine that snow is you

And yet the snow covers the dirt that I know

And my letters to a name I’ve forgotten–

So I’ll clasp my hands in fervent prayer

That someone will read my pen on paper

The fragmented imagination fills your spot with time

And perhaps I will write to you, still

If I write you into my memory

Is that you still?