Snowstorm (Poetry)

When I remember you
it is always in that room —
a set piece with dancers
and swirling disco lights.
I still see the way you stood
watching from the doorway,
hesitating for that moment
as the colours fell around you
caught the image, saved it
like an out-take that I kept.

As a child I had a snowstorm —
a winter scene with skaters —
a girl and boy together
on a silver paper pond
and domed in sky blue plastic
and however hard I shook it
the fake snow always drifted down
the same unhurried way —
spread itself out evenly
and for the short time that it fell
I half-believed the figures moved
behind its shifting veil.