Winter Hush

It fell softly while we slept.

White.
Quiet.
Dancing down,
back and forth
sifting here,
shaking off branches there,
building itself
into layers
and drifts.
A hush from
the heavens,
a finger laid across
God's lips.


You and I were lying next to each other,
breathing together,
sighing in sleep.
Minutes ticked by,
and hours,
and still,
we dreamt,
turning from time to time
and touching one another,
my hand reaching for your hip,
your kiss on my cheek,
my smile.

Snug in bed

and all around
outside
a cathedral of
snowflakes fell.
In the morning,
you padded silently
into the next room
and I heard your
fingers against the
blinds,
clashing them apart,
and there was the snow,
and I felt your face
break into a smile.