Hello confetti cut by clouds.
Come set the sky aflutter with flurries.
Come pile up on cars and trees and houses.
Alight on eagerly outstretched, young tongues.
Blank slate the earth.
Whitewash the ground.
Sometimes you’re as light as a whisper.
You blow away with a soft wind or disappear—melting—upon impact.
Existing only in air.
Other times you’re dense and heavy—weighty and thick.
You cover everything—a soft and shimmering blanket.
We’ll make snowmen and snow angels out of you.
We’ll leave footprints and hear you crunch beneath our boots.
Welcome winter’s soft precipitation.
You stir hearts with an invitation to play.
“Come sled down the hills I’ve coated.”
“Come pack me tight and test your aim throwing.”
Some are so quick to complain.
They say you turn to slush.
That shoveling is a pain.
But first you decorate the sky and beautifully enshroud the earth.
Even the garbage is transformed into innocuous white lumps.
Hello cold art falling from the sky.
Sculptures forged at great atmospheric heights.
Each snowflake a unique, glittering design.
You change the landscape without ever making a sound.
In truth, you look like magic floating to the ground.