Softly The Day

Through the morning hours
a luxuriance of grey clouds
released a languid fall of snow
muffling the sounds of birds
welcoming the day. As dawn
wallowed in densely cushioned
comfort, the clouds withdrew
leaving the remainder of the day
to the imperious golden glory
of the sun. In the forest all
that is still sleeps within the
white comforter. Here and there
scintillating veils of snowdrift
are gently nudged from perches
aloft on pine branches to
pattern the pristine forest floor.
Robins congregate along a
frigid woodland creek lazy
with chill, hunting caddisfly
larvae. This is an idyll of peaceful
solitude in an oblivious world.