The snow begins falling in elephant-ear
flakes, dusting low branches of the back-yard

maple.  Harder and harder,
the snow swirls down

from white-delicious clouds.  Then flakes
became smaller, and silently

the snow covers the blades of the tall, yellow grass.
When the wind blows, the drifts grow deeper.

At least, next to the deck, they do.  And the deeper they
grow the more I miss the girl, warm in her snowsuit.

She’s waiting on a sled in the snow
for me to admire her “kitty-cat mittens.”


First published in Domicile under the title “The Kitty-Cat Mittens” and later in my chapbook Paper Snowflakes, available from Southern Hum Press