That First Snow Feeling

Things are different.

I don't know when they changed

or when I noticed them changing.

But in any case,

my eyes are open now

and I see that things are upside down.

At first it was just a drop

Poetry is hard in the winter.

It is inexplicable but,

for me,

definitely true.

In the spring, summer, and fall, 

there are limitless possibilities, 

endless inspirations.

I wish I could see the world like a puzzle

with each piece

having one

rightful

place.

But there is far too much 

idealist romantic

in me 

for that to be the case.

I think