I Miss Snow

         

I miss snow.

I miss my flurry friend.
It's been a few years
since it's come for a lingering visit,
the kind that takes me back to my childhood
no matter the aches in my bones
and joints
or back
or hips
and head.

I miss the play. 

The dance in the sky

that drifts to my soul — 

those floating, fluttering, crystalline blossoms

that alight upon an eyelash 

delicate as a lover's kiss,

yet in numbers,

possess the power to halt the world.

I miss experiencing a clean slate, 

literally

then internalizing it, 

figuratively.

The calm and quiet 

muting, soothing, 

allowing a restless mind 

a few still moments.

I miss the reason for the word

cozy

after a workout shoveling.

Horses tucked in the barn

hay up to their knees

soft light on

floofy blanket and cat in my lap,

good book in my hand,

honeyed hot tea at my side,

good dog at my feet.

Life in a snow globe.

I miss my friend snow.