about a New England winter.
I don’t know if it’s the way the snow falls,
one night in November,
all at once:
a softy, downy blanket over the rolling hills
the lakes freeze over
And are soon covered in the tracks
one of those wintry nights, everyone
Is safe and warm in their own houses, yet
watching the same snow fall
Or perhaps it’s how
When I step outside one day,
A thousand falling snowflakes
the wind blowing them
this way and that,
Swirling and spiraling over the landscape
In its glittering winter glory.
At night, the moon softly illuminates
and snowflakes streak solid white
against the dark trees
Past the car windows.
I’d always pretend I was in Star Wars