shimmering in winter’s wee hours, the snow steals the scrutiny of the neighborhood.
i am not the only one to be left awestruck--- swarming the newly soiled snow,
are children, finally  free from the grasps of their pens and papers
until the city clears the roads.

the giggles and screams are enough to drive a person either past insanity or bring pure joy.
fingers are used like paint brushes on the windows of houses and cars. every time,
the response is ******; as if they did not know by now that the snow was cold.

i do not add kindlewood to my fire. watching the happiness and liveliness of the street
warms my heart enough. it is a wonder what simple fallen crystals can bring out in a
person, no matter the age. i see now why white is the color of innocence.