Things I'd Want to Tell You

Trouble everywhere but

This morning, driving through 

Dense drifts of snow,

Palpable, hanging in

The air, blowing

Across fields and back roads,

Everything was white

Brightest grays, though 

Now and then sky broke

Into a bit of blue, quickly gone

Into the clerestory

Of light shadowing the stark 

Architecture of bare trees

Against the landscape, and 

All the while 

Snow falling through erratic 

Sunlight was just so 

Fleeting gorgeous, 

Hymning, dancing 

Wind-borne

Into the waiting balance.