Thanksgiving Snow 2013

I woke this morn to unexpected white

that somehow sifted through the night

without a sound. No wind had blown

as Winter’s work was softly sown

to flock each roof, downy and thick

and quiet as the quilt and feather tick

in some forgotten cottage in a wood.

And now throughout the neighborhood,

the scraping sounds of shovels call…

I would have rather watched it fall.

©11-28-13 Tom Kapanka