Snowfall, Nov. 27th 2006


the first wet flakes

drifted lazily through streetlight glow,

finding their rest on green hedges,

apparently oblivious to the


They whispered

in their descent: we are manna,

crumbs for starved souls;

and so they tugged at our threads and

drew us speechless from our homes

to be filled.

We forgot the cold,

swept out into a pale sea of grace.

The sky wrapped us gently in orange,

as the moonlight pooled

in our midnight angels of snow

and sand.

Rapt in unearthly glory,

we reluctantly returned inside; we nestled

‘round the extra log on the fire; the

final drops of some icy spell melted down

our faces, and we succumbed to

warm dreams,

while just beyond

the frostbitten panes, it fell

and mercilessly it fell

until the trees cried out

under the weight of God’s terrible beauty

and snapped.