First snowfall is usually a mere prank,
as it was this morning with a dusting
of snow, roads and skies clear as a whistle.
But during the night coydogs were howling
as if they had cornered over-sized prey—
deer most likely, maybe two miles away
in deep darkness before rain turned to snow.
That snow was so exciting for my son
who, at almost four, built his first snowman
last winter with hat, coal eyes, scarf, straw broom.
I don’t know what it is that attracts him
to snow sculpture: I admit doing it
when I, too, was that age decades ago,
frolicking in fluffy, malleable snow!