This new weather opens
on a silent hinge with you

as its famous protagonists.
In a blizzard of a hundred

demeanours you people the air
with the many white

gestures your body
made in room after room

darkening on the stairs
throwing a door open

to the light, striding in
bending gently over a bed.

The storm turns inland.
The large white flakes fall.

Each one stars your face
dissolving on the road.

They pause for a mild unmoving
moment of celebrity

hovering like the one or two
desultory pictures

in the paper I'm leafing through
on my way to work.