Until the Ice Melts

Snow falls, and the town is dressed up
in its new thoughts.

All of the upward surfaces
are dusted with evidence.

Everyone knows something fell last night,
that there was a communion between
the heavens and the streets.

The rooftops looking up with a brightness.
The mountains having put on their white robes.

“The angels have visited!”
“The day has been made holy!”

Are the thoughts we almost think,
feeling them as a silent celebration
when we get our coffee, or look out
to see the white crowns.

Our cars and trucks transformed into chariots.

Our houses into temples, our neighborhoods,
part of a kingdom.

For a few hours we are royalty,
until the ice melts.