Snow on a Tuesday
On a Tuesday, it snowed and the flurries came early before dawn And the children had no school.
Outside the window, the silent field of flakes floated down, White and gray points of static on an old television with no antenna filling the air I look through every day but never see Creating a million points on which my gaze could land emerging from a uniform field of gray above, revealing themselves for a short flight, dissolving into the white carpet hugging the taxis and grasses below.
I wish for just one moment of such luminous individuality.