The Snow Story

At last, snow falls like wishes, kissing the muddy ground,

Turning my view around.

She rolls out the white carpet,

Icing the path from my door,

Begging for me to explore,



My eyes blink as tiny shocks of frozen magic sink

Into my coat, my hair, my everywhere.

I offer my hands, let it all dance on my face.

My sliding feet learn to take things slow,

To really see the gentle glow

Of a familiar place

As it is softly,

Softly coated in grace.