Waking In a Snow Globe
The wild wind tipped the world
upside down while I was sleeping.
Now, snow catches in tree-caught gusts of air
that blows small birds off course
and sets the wind chimes swinging.
High above the spinning white,
the sun is prying the clouds apart,
loosing snowy feathers from the downy puffs,
until the air itself is made of silver and gold.
Snow is falling all around,
it swirls and eddies to the ground,
it makes a kind of whispery sound,
as is comes tumbling down.