I met him the first day of spring,
a day on which it snowed.
Before we fell asleep, he told me
about a painting of snow he made
in which nothing looked like snow—
black curved lines like fallen eyelashes.
I rarely leave out the sky,
the clouds, the moon.
My favorite time of day is dusk,
and in winter I didn’t see it
for weeks and weeks.
When I drove around in March
and saw sunset after sunset,
it felt like I had discovered a new food,
like when I started adding lemon
to everything I cooked.
We said goodbye in the morning
and snow dusted his boots.
I didn’t know if I’d see him again
and that was fine, then.