White Pow(d)er

Tonight is the lunar eclipse, but it is too cloudy to see.
However, this solstice eve is absolutely beautiful.

The air is still and tolerably crisp.
Snow falls silently, and I want to lie down on it,
looking up at the sky, snow settling on my lashes.
I blink them away.

And I want you, whoever you may be,
to stretch out next to me.
In cozy coats and padded gloves
we hold hands under the glowing sky.

My boot may touch yours,
like paper dolls dusted
with unpaper snowflakes.

Like so many other night skies,
so many other exhibits of loveliness,
I want to share them with someone.

Reality blends with longing
into imaginative scenes
of snowy gloves, chilled lips,
and ardent eyes blinking back the frost.

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