Silent Night Snow

In the golden candlelight of melancholy,
I visit memory
and find snow.

Besotted by snow!
Nights rapt by the windows
watching flakes fall
delicate through the soft glow
of incandescent street lamps;
muted gray pervading the air,
sifting silent gentle ice crystals
one on top of the other.
The world is a lily-white dreaming.

There is never a quiet
like the quiet of snow.

The birds flit between it,
fairies in the dim-light,
silent as time, invisible
as breath.

There is a quiet between us.
A silence.  Runny noses
and bright red cheeks
from a scraping heavy
on the gravel driveway.

Does the damask air
inspire you too?

Whoosh, deep breaths!

Limitless ecstasy,
silent night snow.