I count the snowflakes as I count your days. <br />The hollows hold evaporated stars. <br />Each one as unique as a poem thought, <br />Bears witness to winter's eternity. <br /> <br />The landscape is the color of old wood. <br />Vividness would disturb its elegance. <br />Within its depth I carve your Slavic face <br />And feel my fingers warmed by memory. <br /> <br />Previously published: Skylark, Purdue University Calumet<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/as-i-count-your-days/
