Juan Niyebe

Oh how we dream of snow
Of rain that had just hardened scantly
Of colder winds than sunlight scorching—

Snowflakes fall on a plywood shanty
Nubs of ice melt tomorrow afternoon
On the metal sheets which are roofs
Why do we dream of winter ear muffs?

Is it that we are tired of the rain?
When snow that falls is precipitation
When hail is ten times less participative
When pounds of snow that melt will flood the streets?

Is it that we envy the Western joys of it?
Or is it that we are desperate?