I & That I Am

Snow drifts westward, general
all over the valley.  Heavier
in the mountains, I suppose.
Thoughts of Joyce drift
with the snow, though
internally.  As if without him
I would not be - and without
this snow I would not be.  Would
I not be without these? I think, 
therefore.  I am.  And without
these?  There is only these.
And I.