A Snowy Saturday in New York
The simple life
Her smile like a gravitational pull
Drawing me closer in some propulsion of time and space
sharing hot tea on a cold snowy day
waiting for the giant white flakes to stop
kissing the concrete
bouncing off windshields of random cars
and awnings of taco stands and seven-elevens
with children running out to play on a school-less Saturday.
She gets bored being trapped inside
so we venture out to the park
enjoying New York in its winter splendor
in knit gloves and woolen scarves and cushioned boots
that walk the line between fashion and function
and we hold on to each other using the weather as an excuse
a distraction for some PDA and mounting irresistible attraction
like the wet snow hugging the patches of grass
before the scraping and the banging of shovels
and the white stuff wilting into a sloppy dingy mess of slush and sludge
There is this ethereal moment
when you can taste the beauty of the snow
your teeth chattering in the freezing smatterings of wind and air
and you are transported under some magical spell
to a place more lovely than Arendelle
snow sleds and plows and angels
until we head back to the warmth
of smiles, hot tea and toasty quilts
by a warm fire near the desk with a mountain of bills
and we sigh that sigh, eat heaps of pie
and seal a kiss on that beautiful smile…
tempted to binge and hear more snow fall
under mountains of puffy warm quilts
floating on clouds of pillows
