"Winter Watcher"

On the last snowfall of the season, my young daughter lays across my chest. My two boys have hopped on the bus, and were on their way to school for the day. It is quiet and still, and the room is dim. As I sit with my thoughts, I peer out of my kitchen window and observe...

"Winter Watcher"

Out of the frosted paned window I glance.
The thatched roof dusted in the white powdery snow.
A small gust of wind produced a dainty puff.
Like that of someone blowing powdered sugar into the sweet air.
The cold confection funnels around.
As if it is going to wisp around to eventually land on a fluffy funnel cake.
As it swirls and twirls around, the cone of faint flurries blow back into the brisk breath of winter.

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