November Snow

Snow falls, sings me songs
from a periglacial place,
in a world as wide as
the street light’s fetch. 
Snow falls.  I gag on each
unique flake.  Remind me how
global warming is changing
lives.  Snow.  I collapse,
become an angel and the blanket
constricts each motion.
Snow falls.  Tonight is a vise,
the cold a needling pain.
The air, viscous in my lungs,
rasps with each shovel of effort.
Fallen leaves are rust in white
where winter adheres to
the sidewalks and pine. Autumn
is a forgotten victim and I’m
frozen in its graveyard.  This is
a time of disappearances.  Snow
falls.  The world is too fragile. 
Snow falls in dizzying spirals,
memories and spinning wraiths.