Oceans of snowflakes
piling up into dunes;
waves of white morphing,
warping into drifts so large
it can take all day to carve through them.
In these darker times
we are wringing out stingy sunshine
from an almost always opaque sky;
creamy today
as so many spots fly by horizontally.

The snow is a blur of falling pieces,
each flake tracing a convoluted line
from there to here
with seemingly no rhyme or reason.
They travel through soft and furious times
till they finally come to rest
on my head, my shoulders, my chest.
I see them collect on your eyelashes,
and melt as they touch your neck.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *