Poem: Waking to Snow

It gathered in your sleep,
quietly packed your dreams
for the long glare of day.
It arrived alone,
stamping small feet on the brick stairs,
pulling down the rhododendron.

You did not need to call it
or think ahead
or clean a small room for its stay.
It will settle on the roof,
on your shoulder,
on the soft back of the doe
who will not move when you step out
onto the street’s new-made bed
as birches rake the wind
with long, patient hands.

This morning is your everywhere,
your everything at once. It took
nothing at all to get here—you
came in sleeping, remember?
Even your brightest dream
could not have seen it so new, so cold.





Posted for DVerse
Open Link Night #32
Thank you, DVerse!