Favorite Poem by Louise Gluck

photo by irenesuchocki at etsy

Snow     by Louise Gluck

Late December; my father and I

are going to New York, to the circus.

He holds me

on his shoulders in the bitter wind:

scraps of white paper

blow over the railroad ties.

My father liked

to stand like this, to hold me

so he couldn’t see me.

I remember

staring straight ahead

into the world my father saw,

I was learning

to absorb its emptiness,

the heavy snow

not falling, whirling around us.

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Thoughts:

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