Snowed in (poem)

We awoke to a winter wonderland.

As we had slept in warm darkness,

the cold white blanket fell down,

hiding everything beneath it.

The snow was perched on the branches,

singing its song of serene silence,

waiting for the right wind to fly

and remake its home elsewhere.

We could have pushed the door open—

the white powder would have moved,

stepped to the side and bowed to us—

but instead we called in trapped.

I made a pot of tea—

Arctic fire, her favorite—

and she collected our blankets,

lying the warmest on the couch.

We wrapped ourselves in them,

and in each other,

a warm bundle of love,

interlaced and intertwined.

We spent the day there,

the TV on, Netflix playing,

her drowsing off on my shoulder

as I combed my fingers through her hair.

-Zero