Snow Drift

Day dawns slow and pretty

in the sifting, wistful snow —

sky dark, snow light,

air held in windless stasis

These days, our sense of purpose

can easily drift, though we walk

in the cold air and the snow crunch

and ground ourselves, as best we can,

among the winter trees

We will hold hands and remind each other

our work is not in things

we can tick off lists,

and our gain, from each day,

is somewhere deeper than here,

something we may see again sometime.

©Wendy Mulhern

January 14, 2020