Sunday, December 4, 2011

snow

For this moment.

For this moment I am content.

 All is well, all is perfect, in this cocoon of my moment.

Last nights magical moonlit dance with my shovel under waning flakes, a memory.

Muffled silence of the wet heavy snow weighs on every branch I see outside my window.

Winters first snow.

The newly risen sun leaves the blanket of comfort and adds the joy. It screams wow-wie what a world. The sweet dance of the old and the new, like a rocking-chaired grandma reaching out for the new born babe.

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