Snow Day

Through the kitchen window, I watch you

shoveling what the plow left. You are talking

to the neighbour and I realize that she is stunning.

But then, we don’t have the same taste, do we?

You are smiling and stopping to look at her. The light

in your eyes leaves the world, backlit. The fairness

of your skin, your temperament. The fullness of your 

sleeves, heavy snow and hearts and other cold things 

scooped out from the bank, tossed over your shoulder.

You take care of things. Make things fly.  

When you come inside, leave her scraping,

there is something I want to show you.

Nolan Natasha Pike is a queer and trans writer living in Nova Scotia. His poems have appeared in The Puritan, EVENT, and Plenitude. He has been shortlisted for the Geist postcard contest, Room’s poetry contest, the Atlantic Writing Competition and was recently longlisted for the CBC poetry prize.