by Kelly King Walden
It’s winter white in the house right now—
Reflecting off the white
Illuminating everything with snow glow
Despite the dusk settling in
Twilighting the sky.
An ethereal extension of time,
A suspension of day,
The snow light creates a temporal portal,
A fold in the fabric.
Unexpected light granting unexpected time,
Delaying the darkness.
I, too, am suspended,
Filled with the gravity and wonderment of
These moments that shouldn’t exist.
The still light
Gives me a glimpse over the snow horizon
Into timelessness, and—
For a moment—I exist in eternity.
by Robert Frost
I had for my winter evening walk—
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had the cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow.
And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.
I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found.
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window but that was black.
Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o’clock of a winter eve.