The Fairy Snow

“Look” I told my young daughter

“It’s a fairy snow”

The sky was filled with the delicate friction

of crystals

large, soft, and wet

which painted a perfect portrait of Winter.

I helped her hold out her hand to catch some.

She shrieked with enchantment

her lips still stained red

from strawberries.

We bundled up

and trekked our footprints

large and small

into our neighbor’s yard


that in the snowing

they would be undone.

It was there I saw

that this was no real snow

but mud dressed up in the veil

of Winter’s pearled finery.

Soon enough

our boots had undressed the ground

churned and mixed the white and the brown


in her toddler’s delight

my small daughter saw only the white . . .

The Fairy Snow

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