last snow of the season

at first a few chips

of light as if flaked off

from a low sky, and then

more feathery, dreamlike,

drifting down, a gentle

fanfare so like confetti,

falling across roofs, trees,

yards, the street, muffling

sounds as an occasional

car or delivery truck slows

so as not to slide over slick

spots, but soon the sky

is all a-flurry as if one

were gazing up into

a galaxy of stars coming

down piecemeal, settling

over the city now waking

into a whitening world,

children praying for more

snow days, dogs let out

romping and plunging,

snow so soundless a

frosting over all, a veil,

a cloak, a late winter gift

we hope will soon pass.

 

--M deO

 

Done