Winter and snow take on many moods both in our lives and in literary form. In this poem, Kenyon weaves the weather into a charged moment, using fairly direct language that nevertheless crafts an entire moment, an entire world. This poem can be found in the anthology Winter: A Spiritual Biography of the Season, edited by Gary Schmidt and Susan M. Felch.
While We Were Arguing
The first snow fell—or should I say
it flew slantwise, so it seemed
to be the house
that moved so heedlessly through space.
Tears splashed and beaded on your sweater.
Then for long moments you did not speak.
No pleasure in the cups of tea I made
distractedly at four.
The sky grew dark. I heard the paper come
and went out. The moon looked down
between disintegrating clouds. I said
aloud: "You see, we have done harm."
- Jane Kenyon
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