Utter Snow

And still.
It snows.

And snows.
Everything
goes white.
Rounded.
Soft.
So quiet.

How do those tiny
snowflakes make
such giant piles?
It is a wonder.

Some moments
see me feeling.
Shut in.
Squeezed.
No air.

When I do,
I stare.
Intently.
At the Buddha
statue.
That sits.
That sits.

Shouldered
in utter
silence.
And peace.