overhead a slow accumulation
of white drifts on frozen sky
dancing in the air formlessly
fated to sink beneath
black heels, rubber spiked

predawn streetlamps
far less electric
than their daytime cousins
hold close promises of pale slumber

with each breath of frigid air
the snowplowed banks encourage
my breaking of new earth

each heretical footprint
leaving behind ice-blue

shadows on the carpet

This poem was inspired by a prompt submitted by Kiya Chernoff:
“There is something magical about the snow when it dances in the air and when it covers the ground like a big blanket that covers our earth.”

A reading of the poem by the author: