watching snow gently falling
on the thick whiteness of what came before
snapping and crackling of kindling in the wood stove
clicking
clacking
keys on a keyboard
movement of the soft sleeve of my grey woolen sweater as I type
metallic staccato sounds as the stove begins to heat up
wood creaks as I move in the old chair with the pale blue velvet seat
knowing a peculiar white cherub
stares
silently smiling
at my back
fire gets hotter
crackling subsides
now the steady quiet roar of the chimney
the falling snow looks like silence in motion
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