so silently covering trees
in snow. So slow into our palms
it could rest. Sad because it can be held.
It moves through trees empty
of birds and ponds stuck
in the moon covering
our footsteps—it is a dream
there are angels falling from the sky
covering our bodies in a naked white.
The song waits among the many leaves, shy,
waiting for us to be clothed.
It waits among many small fallen things.
It waits, singing let go,
let go of the sky
embracing us singing