The tiny flurries Glide, shimmy down from the sky, Their snowy bodies intertwining, Rhythmically conjoining into a wintery waltz, One two three Together they step, Sweeping against the buildings and the trees, Resting their feet at last As they gracefully come to a halt Atop the pavement.
The first snow of the season Blows its frosty breath against My nose, The wind catching my hair, Whipping it against my scarf. The cold feels Jagged against my exposed face And fingertips, My lips splitting open from the air's Bitterness. I stop the snowflakes' strides short As they get stuck to my coat, My hat, My long black lashes.