For three days we waited,
a bowl of dull quartz for sky.
At night the valley dreamed of snow,
lost Christmas angels with dark-white wings
This poem is quite quiet, and very deliberate. Some of the lines are  enjambed , but they all end at least on the end of a phrase, if not with punctuation. We feel like the speaker is using the poetic line  to carefully unroll their thoughts. 

New Year Snow