Snowflakes dither in ambivalent air,
blowing here and there, every-which-way, float-
ing like paper and melting on eyelids,
nestling on my white hair and silver nose,
making me look like a vagrant snowman
who wanders in dreams of stippled birches!
Is this the right way to begin the year?
Blanketed in white, shoveling the walk?
Lolling under lacework of a snowflake?
On my tongue swift chemical translation
tells me water from the heavens blesses
both me and these rollicking hills.
Wishing all piney peace and pell-mell laughter
as the New Year descends like a snowflake....