The air has grown thick and grey

No difference between ground and sky

I could walk away into the air

Over the smoking snow

I love what snow does to light

Ripped open clouds dragging grey banners

Grey becomes gold at end of day

Changing to blue at the onset of night

It lies heavy on rocks and branches

A blanchet tucked up in all the right spots

I long for the sensation of walking through it

But don’t want to disturb it’s perfection

Noise vanishes under snow

Not smothered, but calmed like me

Save for the music of water

Where the river runs too fast to freeze