A Gift of Snow

First snow is always special. Technically, this wasn’t my first snow, it did snow a couple of times last month. But that was in the night and only for about 15 minutes.

There’s something magical about seeing it in the day, it’s brilliant and white and does gorgeous things to the landscape.

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My poet friend, said

Spiders or locusts or unknown beasts,
these frozen tears from the sky come down with a million names,
scattered wisps of winter rain,
in a quiet part of town,
where one hand reaches out,
for a gift of snow.

He writes beautifully here.

Were you old enough, my foreign friends, to remember your first snow?

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