For you, my dear reader, and for the snow.

I’m sitting at my desk watching the snow drift out of the sky and onto the two lonely minivans in the parking lot beyond my window. The office is quiet today. The world itself seems quiet.

I memorized a poem last week and wanted to share it with you, dear reader. Please close your eyes and imagine a warm place surrounded by the snow globe of your memory. 

Like Snow by Wendall Berry

Suppose we did our work

like the snow, quietly, quietly, 

leaving nothing out. 

 

Happy Holidays.

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