Air smells like cow fields so we know 

the snow is coming. After dinner it’s started 

so we all go out. My youngest has his tongue 

reaching, trying to talk and catch flakes 

and sounding cartoonish. We all follow suit 

and open up wide. We’re only awake 

in this very instant, so we make sure to fall 

out of our heads and into the cold, soft night, 

this life so deep and dark and sparkling, 

we let it land lightly on our tongues. 

~ Brooke Teisui McNamara