I wake to pure quiet;
it’s snowing again.
When flakes roll down
diagonally, with intent,
they persist for hours.
The only noise is what I cause:
clicks and pings of radiators,
the coffee pot gargling, the thrum
of my computer’s blood pressure.
A titmouse lands in the cherry tree.
Hops into the shelter
of the feeder to eat millet.
Her two-note whistle
catches the storm’s eye.
published in Wolf Willow Journal
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