--- S U S A N   M A U R E R

I suffered the summer complaint
The August air was molasses
As sticky in the lung 
And the dark at the top of the stairs
Got worse
Now the December air is thin and clear
I long for snow, but snow won’t come
Instead the inane grin of
Winter sunshine troubles my rest
Domphna, snow, ma domina, snow
Miserere, Miserere
Bless us with your cold and glitter,
	the dancing movements of your fall