Snow drifts past my window pane, dawdling, lingering, settling on the ledge where I can trace it.
One and then another and yet another, piling atop each other, connecting, forming, weaving a puzzle-piece rug, blanketing my dirty window ledge until it looks like cake icing.
Watch them scuffle, shuffle into perfect place, locking their arms forever, I slowly, gently move the glass aside, just watch the snow do it's humble.
But I do not touch, do not utter not to interrupt the wonder, with my soft breath fogger, this process is too magical, fantastical, dynamical.
All through the day watch it work with the sun's glassy glare, watch it go golden and gloss'n then as time passes olden's
Until molten and slowly gently fade and sink... all the teamwork all the piling work... slowly slowly...
Until my window ledge is black again... the night dark again and I bring the glass down again... amazed, awed at the snow cycle.
About the Creator
T. Licht
I have a love for words and a love to share them.
Enjoy! and thank you for taking the time to read this and maybe if you want subscribe and buy my new poetry book Whispers at Twilight
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