Snow is falling gently on the spruces
in the dark. Flurries sparkle
as they dance under porch lights.
Cold sinks to the ground.
Boots crunch with each step.
Raven wings swoosh overhead.
If snow flakes made sound,
they would create a symphony
so that I could stand still and listen.
Instead I go inside. Except for coffee percolating,
quietness covers everything.
I watch emerging daylight
reveal forms from shadows.
It will be a long wait before I can go walking again.
Hopefully, snow will still be gently falling on the spruces.