second snow

this isn't the first snow - it isn't

the one we spent at the bus stop together, sharing 

hand warmers and wishes for the bus to come,

which, eventually, it did

melting the frosty road beneath it

and later we would see the rest of the world followed suit -

but it is the second,

it is the one we will spend at the dojo together, sharing

each other's boots and shivering as we let the kids in,

the door slippery beneath our fingers as we marvel

at the thick white flakes

happily covering the whole wide world.