Snow, once wind-packed and
Crackling with a layer of ice,
Turned soft and wet under foot,

Like a rigid, schedule-driven life
Softened by a glimpse of mortality.

Like a hard impersonal heart
Warmed by the touch of a hand.

Like a cacophony of public chatter
Melted by the sound of a friend's "Hello."

Fresh weather will bring new snow,
And plummeting temperatures freeze the landscape solid again,
But these other things leave a glow that continues
After the moment has passed.