Thursday, December 14, 2017
Snow
Snow
I know.
Each moment is but preparation
for the next,
and once observed,
is already gone.
How, then,
can I live
in a present
that has already vanished?
Last night
the snow fell
while I was sleeping.
Today the trees
are wearing white aprons,
and the grass smoothes itself over
with its pale quilt.
I stand at the window
and look at this winter scene
with abandoned joy,
content to live
in my past.
Dorothy Walters
December 14, 2017
