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.