Woke this morning to two inches of snow as we measured it on the patio table and vehicles. It’s the first substantial amount of snow we’ve gotten since we moved here (August of 2010). We tend to get less snow, and rain, than other places in Albuquerque.
I took pictures, then, back inside, read about the HBO documentary about Mildred and Richard Loving, released yesterday on Valentine’s Day. The Miami Herald’s article says, “Ultimately, this is a film about love and race and tolerance,” says Nancy Buirski, who directed the documentary. “It is a reminder to the public that we need to experience each other’s humanity, that we need to get to know each other and respect each other.” Thanks to the Lovings, Tom and I are legal in all 50 states, although we wouldn’t have been in Alabama as recently as 2000.
Last night I watched a story about Amanda Rich and April Parker, partners for nine years, who yesterday, on Valentine’s Day, locked themselves together with bicycle locks at the Bernalillo County Clerk’s Office, after they were denied a marriage license because New Mexico doesn’t have marriage equality. Amanda and April were arrested after blocking access to the counter, saying “I’m sorry, but until we can get a marriage license, no one else can get a marriage license today.”
All of this – snow, love, civil rights, what has been done, what’s yet to be accomplished – was swirling in my head when I wrote this poem. Happy day after Valentine’s Day to you all.
Snow Fall Near San Mateo and Gibson
This morning the weight of snow
bends rosemary branches to the ground.
The lilac, its early striving toward buds
enrobed by winter.
The mountain gives way to heat-rayed sun
rising over the payday loan store.
The first snow loosens, drops, shaped to a measured curve
as if it still wrapped the power lines.
Its descent a crossing
of boundaries, snow to water to humid air.
Below, the sand softens.