January

January

Finally snow.

A deep opal hush
cocoons a sleeping world,

holds me in lush midnight
solitude, unblemished
snowscaped stillness,
singular moments of softest
iridescence

savored
until dawn

blares bright, and squealing girls
pull on boots, run outside,
trail first footprints,
build a snow elf with pointy leaf ears,
sled in the forest, zipping beneath
cedar boughs, tree limbs traced in silver ice.

Satisfied,
with runny noses and rosy cheeks,
they return indoors to curl beneath quilts
where hot cocoa is sipped
and black-capped chickadees flirt
at bird feeders outside the window.

--Diana Tigerlily