The day flirts with snow

The day flirts with snow —

In the morning, lets some fall,

though it’s far too warm for it to stick;

In the dimming afternoon,

sports a portentous light

in the pockets of the clouds —

Shades of blue and cream 

between the stark, bare limbs of trees,

that calls for snow.

There is some sense of magic

in the stillness

where, at their tips

the white pine’s needles hold their muted pearls,

that makes me hope

for that white transformation

that stops time,

Makes me catch my breath

in the freshness and the sweetness

of the now.

The day flirts with snow —

It won’t deliver

But at least it kissed my soul

with its bright shiver.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 10, 2013