While the cold blowing wind
Lies softly on the dry, frozen ground,
What is needed is
The heavens to open up their wings
And pour pure pleasant snow
On all below. The jagged, parched
Earth wants to be purified with
Smooth, simple lines: a crisp white
Secure blanket for the dull
Leafless landscape.

The hill’s barren face
Wept dry tears for the sullen day:
For the sky to lie its life on the wind
And the silent snow to fall.

The gray, begrudging cloud frowned
Finally letting its white hair down.
Cradled in the falling wind, the present
Was delivered and the smooth world
Praised the day and cloud and afterwards
Sat content: fulfilled in its quest for

The sun soon slushed the snow
Into the hillside and gave the
First stirrings of life
To the green shoots now ready–
Washed in the winter–
Crouched for spring.