Here you will find the Poem Snow of poet Louise Gluck
Late December: my father and I are going to New York, to the circus. He holds me on his shoulders in the bitter wind: scraps of white paper blow over the railroad ties. My father liked to stand like this, to hold me so he couldn't see me. I remember staring straight ahead into the world my father saw; I was learning to absorb its emptiness, the heavy snow not falling, whirling around us.