Here I sit on the back porch,
reading an old book,
when I see snow falling —
no, drifting is more apt a word —
on the breeze on a clear day in May.
The tightly packed houses take up most of the sky,
but there against the blue, you can see
little white dots.
I crane my neck and pretend I’m in my own little snow globe.
What wonders nature bestows unto us
as we disappear into whatever little words occupy our minds.
The snow was only dandelion seeds,
but that was close enough for me.