In the gentle north, gray skies keep
the snow back until supper, letting
escape some soft warning flakes.
The wind blows soft and restrained,
clouds carry their loaded billows
for nightfall, waiting like mothers,
floury from cooking, who call their
children in for evening. The air waits
still and full, holding winter breath,
all ice gathered in store to release
by night. Almost all are in now, safe
and warm, looking out from illumined
windows, sitting before hearth-lit logs.
All but those few huddled close under
a bridge or between sheltering rocks.

CC 2007 Sharon Mollerus