snow, swirling around

snow is swirling around,
while wind pounds against the storm windows,
and my cats are dashing around--
as if goddess has indeed touched the glass-

entered, danced through the vanilla iced air;

now dancing with my felines,
as if worshiping the cruel finality
of any winter we may have held dear-

it's clear that spring will come
whether or not shadows
are painted on the still green grass
that rests underneath

the few inches of dense wet snow-
the one you know your mother
has warned you about-
waterproof boots are still thirsty,

and can't keep secrets, as the imprint prowls
distinctively: neither passive, nor daring--
or caring what the next person thinks
tethered to the pure pristine glow

of a wet february snow-
swirling around--
always more blessed
than we know

words/photo~kate lamberg (c) '16