Recline Far Down

Virgin Snow

You are unthreaded as well as

Well spoken for.

Beautiful droplets of your children

Land in the white womb

Of your full body.

You don’t fret over

The small stuff,

Such as births and deaths.

You weep, however,

Over the importance of spaghetti sauce.

But you are just a white,

Unkempt mound of snow on a large

And vast sloping hill…

What would you know about such motherly things?

Yet, this does not mean you lack superior intelligence or beauty.