Sarah Endo’s most recent poem to appear here was Literally (August 2013).

Here’s the thing about snow angels:
By Sarah Endo

You have to be willing.
You have to be willing to flop
down in the snow, flail or wiggle
your arms and legs. You have to be willing to surrender
your dignity for there isn’t any dignified way to do this.
You will get wet or you will be wearing silly snow clothes.
You will be lying on your back,
on the ground,
vulnerable. You will feel
the cool beneath you,
see the sky above–or heaven–
whatever you believe.

Here’s the thing about snow angels: the snow must be powdery,
light. You’ll hear nothing when you touch down except
perhaps the rustle of your clothes.
The snow cannot be icy
or crusty. It can give no resistance,
only be impressionable.

Here’s the thing about snow angels:
Your angel would be most perfect if you could levitate
out of it, flip and float on your belly to see the wet
grains of white gray blue black, swished into
arcs and dips and hollows
by your body’s brush.