The snow fell, at first,

gray and wet,

thick and heavy,

almost like rain pouring

down the doubts of a long winter,

soaking Into the parched,

water-thirsty ground.

I threw my head back,

opened my mouth

to catch the snowflakes,

and the sky was dizzy—

I was dizzy—

the kind of dizzy

when you realize

that you aren’t afraid of falling,

when you know you have found

something that you had lost.

Photo by Elizabeth Taylor Frandsen; do not copy