a crystalline feeling in the air
the airy prelude to snow
I hear, before it is played
on the blue piano at the poles;
above the several levels of earth's atmosphere
how from that white sky tree the cold flowers
will be blooming, blooming and falling simultaneously
and deliriously happy children will count on
days at home.
days at home.
how mystically it seemed
in the treble of those petaled snows that
God had intercepted our dreams
and freed us for a day or even longer
to stay.
to stay inside looking out
not sick, with no malaise
gazing at such transformation
dreamy and free in our dreaminess
festive to not ride the bus
with no new homework assigned
I don't think in all the world in Time
there had ever been such a happiness
watching it all turn to pearl
young as we were then,
infinite in our joy.
mary angela douglas 16 november 2022;9 feb 2023
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