First light at seven
Beneath a warming blanket of clouds.
Snow has retreated from the valley floor
But small patches of ice
Remain from yesterday's thaw
Slick enough to topple a young man
Dashing down a sidewalk.
Small birds chirping excitedly
About the snow that's coming
Later today and through Thanksgiving.
The hustle and haste
The anxious looks
And demanding tone
Irritate the calm that settles
Where ambitions rest
And weary travelers
Realize their destinations.
11.19.12
