Contentment Lives in Place of Narrative

Every time we orchestrate
Another goodbye
That ends up leading
To another beginning,

Every farewell to mountains
When the first snow falls
That becomes hello
Again following a thaw,

Every false start, every failed
Unknotting, every
Misaligned climax,
Every crumpled paper tossed,

Was narrative, not the end.
Story-less winters
Have or haven’t snow,
Then haven’t and have again.