This piece was originally published in Quarto’s 2022 Spring Print.
Illustration by Bella Aldrete
an hour in, the snow is eating all the light
and Jules calls me from the national cathedral.
a sibling summoned, I forget my good layers,
remaining easily soakable in cloudbreath.
I happy my numb feet. like a knight, or a rabbit,
I wiggle through the gate towards someone warm.
delight and danger beg for my red breath.
private under thick flakes, paths are becoming questions:
why are you walking ? so funny you little ? wet creature ?
with your bright squishy face ? where do you think
you're going ? you're going towards the amphitheater ?
Jules says on the phone ? and here's ? where the ground
starts breathing slowly ? me and a squirrel
unempty the stairs ? I found you says Jules
and I zip their coat back up do the trees
always look like this ? kaleidoscopic ? just two arms above
the horizon ? let's keep going says Jules let’s
watch all the stoplights turn the snow green and walk
where the cars used to be in this newborn place
between ebbing homes and fingers of sky
Sam Losee (they/she) is a poet, flower farmer, and Adventure Time enjoyer from the Hudson Valley, NY. After they graduate in May, they plan to finish knitting their first pair of gloves.