Walking through a field with my little brother Seth

I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow.
For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels
had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground.

He asked who had shot them and I said a farmer.



Then we were on the roof of the lake.
The ice looked like a photograph of water.

Why he asked. Why did he shoot them.

I didn't know where I was going with this.

They were on his property, I said.



When it's snowing, the outdoors seem like a room.

Today I traded hellos with my neighbor.
Our voices hung close in the new acoustics.
A room with the walls blasted to shreds and falling.

We returned to our shoveling, working side by side in silence.



But why were they on his property, he asked.
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David Berman

He is a poet, a singer and songwriter, and a cartoonist! Talk about talented! He has worked with the indie-rock band the Silver Jews. more…

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"Snow by David Berman" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2018. Web. 15 Nov. 2018. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/47499>.

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