On Friday I was home alone when the snow hit. Zack was working late, driving into the storm; Feeling restless, I pulled my boots on and wandered around our block when the ice began to fall. It's amazing how fast wet sweatpants can freeze.
We didn't get much. The snowflakes fell in lazy circles as if the world was filled with wracks of cotton and a steady summer breeze.
Now, the quiet blanket of frozen raindrops has mostly melted.
I admit, I am tired of cold; I am loosing my eloquence when referring to snow.
"You have played,
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—Just tired.
So am I."
- e. e. Cummings