Snow on the Founders

The founders stood in the snowfall as if it were a service being read for them: Kyi, Shchek, Khoryv, their sister Lybid at the prow. Snow collected on bronze the way it collects on patient things. I stood at the base a long time and let the whiteout erase the traffic until only the boat and I were left.

Kyiv is calmly older than every empire that ever claimed it, and the monument states this without raising its voice. A city founded before the founding states existed keeps its own ledger.

My gloves failed by late afternoon and I filed the loss under research costs. Tomorrow the tea vendors get my custom, all of them.