As snowflakes dance behind the pane,
And with their whiteness, pavements stain,
My memory old pictures forms
Of snows of yore, of long-gone storms,
Of clearing driveways, skiing hills,
As snow across the landscape swirls;
Of quiet woods with clearings bright,
Glistening in the noontime light;
Of snowbirds playing on the deck,
As birds at the swaying feeder peck;
And on the pond, a heron tall
That seems not to mind the snow at all;
Of drinks before a cozy grate,
As the snowy day grows late.
And the message of the snow:
How many more may I yet know?...