Nebraska

After we read the poem Teleology by Willie Lin last night in my wonderful writing group.

All I understand for certain about this mysterious poem
is that it snows in Nebraska
Imagine all that cold, the wind-driven snow
as it blows across wide fields gone fallow

Here, far from Nebraska, it’s a mild winter so far
Instead of snow, darkness is what falls
early and stays long. Still dark at 6 a.m.
Dark already in the late afternoon
which may, on different days,
become a symbol—
cozy view from indoors
thrilling view outside of
lights at every window
Or it may
on other dark days
be a loneliness, be a sound like bereft

We shape the snow
We shape the darkness
We shape Nebraska,
those of us who never lived there
Tune it with our own turn
towards melancholy
or joy
Remember today in the snow in the dark
That there are people giddy with love
of the dazzle of lights in windows
and someone somewhere is throwing
a loud and happy party out there
in Nebraska