translations of
snow
Cory Hutchinson-Reuss
≈ sensation of falling into an afternoon’s backlit cloud or a fragment of swarm
≈ that which has a soporific effect or induces trance or overwhelms & sickens with loss of boundaries; possible duration of decades
≈ a process of communion or erasure
≈ ash pile, barred owl, worn flannel, grayscale
≈ when I open my hands, a blizzard wipes the horizon clean, or when I open my hands, my grandmother’s hands stop trembling
≈ cold fog in the rushes, calcium ground to powder
≈ akin to lavender, a vein
≈ a curtain closing on Great Men—whoosh—what will they do now
≈ whitewash, fleece, pax americana
≈ dowse & drowse, punch-drunk flight, aslant & woozy through showering ice petals
≈ bits of paper, esp. diaries, letters, concert ticket stubs; paraphernalia: denoting a married woman’s property, “property apart from a dowry;” the matriarchive’s confetti form
≈ to collapse into bed, to melt & flow, to fail, to accept the changing states, to seep through the wish for armor
≈ to drift, to let go of God-chatter, pearl & clamor
≈ suggestive of a secret heart, its invisible cycles materializing
≈ the quiet, dividing, sifting into hours of night-dust, grit and pill, your tongue trying mother, trying daughter, drinking another name for river, these shifting references inside you
CORY HUTCHINSON-REUSS is the author of Triptych (Milk & Cake Press, 2025). A collaborative chapbook of her poems and the visual art of Giselle Simón was published in 2022 as part of the Prompt Press Gallery Series. Originally from Arkansas, she holds a PhD in English from the University of Iowa and lives in Iowa City, where she teaches in both academic and community settings and serves as poetry editor for Brink. Find her work at coryhutchinsonreuss.com.
The art that appears alongside this piece is by SELA RICKETTS.
