The Magic of Snow

Fresh-fallen snow unleashes the
demons in those two little black
imps that share our household, as
they race outdoors down the steps
of the deck and into the backyard
where, after each fresh fall of
snow a network of passages is
dug out carefully to allow them
ample opportunity to leap and
gambol, fleet as a thought from
one end to the other, trying to
outfox and outrace one another
in a competition of wits and speed
grace and agility and the
incomparable mettle of their
youthful exuberance, still puppies
not yet outgrown their enthusiasm
for life and adventure, curious
about everything that beckons
deftly defying the ordinary and
the expected then fleet as a whistle
their soft silky hair white with
downy granules of snow, they
glide with effortless speed into
the house, happily spreading flakes
of snow before the nuisance of
a towelling exercise can ruin the
gladness of the snowy excursion.