<p>‘Snow’ by Edward Thomas</p><p>An ‘immersed poem’</p><p>We left the warmth of the cottage and walked out into the gloom. There were four of us out there in the whiteness and we stood for a while in the great silence as our eyes got used to the dark and the falling of the snow became clearer. It was a wonderful sight but Amy, our older child, was sighing and clutching my hand. It was bitterly cold and I thought we should go back, but I heard her saying ‘Oh, they have killed a white bird up there on her nest!’ Surprised, I said, ‘What do you mean? What bird?’</p><p>Then I realised what she meant. The snow flakes were like little white feathers. She went on, ‘Look, the down is fluttering from her breast!’ Her mother and I looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Did she really believe they were feathers and that someone had killed a huge white bird? We paused, and still the snow fell. </p><p>It fell through the whole of that evening as the dusky brightness gave way to night. It fell lightly on us all as we walked back to the cottage, and the poor child was still crying quietly for the bird even when we were back in the warmth and light of the big kitchen. </p><p>This strange vision of a bird of the snow remained with her till the next morning when she went out to play with her sister, building a snowman. She may have forgotten it as quickly as it came to her, but I have remembered it ever since.</p><p>In the gloom of whiteness, In the great silence of snow, A child was sighing And bitterly saying: ‘Oh, They have killed a white bird up there on her nest, The down is fluttering from her breast!’ And still it fell through that dusky brightness On the child crying for the bird of the snow.</p><p>© Teachit 2008</p>