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.