Double Hamster on The Rocks

This poem is not mine. I read it on the elevated rail in Chicago six years ago and it stayed with me.

Mark Strand, A Piece of The Storm

From the shadow of domes in the city of domes,
A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room
And made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking up
From your book, saw it the moment it landed.
That's all There was to it. No more than a solemn waking
To brevity, to the lifting and falling away of attention, swiftly,
A time between times, a flowerless funeral. No more than that
Except for the feeling that this piece of the storm,
Which turned into nothing before your eyes, would come back,
That someone years hence, sitting as you are now, might say:
"It's time. The air is ready. The sky has an opening."

Okay, I didn't manage to update the entry yesterday. The poem is part of a collection called, appropriately, Blizzard of One: Poems. You can purchase it from Amazon here.