Snowfall Poem by Aeris Yong

Crowds of people come and go
like frosted flakes cutting through winter snow
Falling, the temperature decreases to below
minus eighteen degrees. I search for
signs of warmth in your sullen face.
Like an open door,
you give me an open embrace.
And we, knees bending over,
treading softly, kiss along Dover
Beach. Your eyes
reach for mine, dread stricken, close
momentarily, as though
recoiling from fear of half-told lies.
Kneading sand into soft dough,
knitting murmurs, ending class —
Easily malleable, stretchable, and as
several shadows form
across our miniature mahogany dorm,
(Made up upon the hour hand,
the chilly clocks churn and strike at ten) —
'I' cease to exist,
like white clouds dissipating into fine moor mist.
Leaves on nearby trees turn, pine, wine and dine —
A restaurant's window light
shines shimmering true and bright
well into the cold winter night.