Snow Dances

Six AM and there are no birds singing
as you whirl and prance alone
in the snow, a love dance

for the seasons,
for fire
in February, love and hope

and a thousand inappropriate imaginings.
the threat of snow and more snow
cannot dim.

About this poem

The picture was taken behind the main museum building of the Southern Vermont Arts Center in Manchester, Vermont. I knew there was a poem in it when I took it. I just had to wait a while for it to emerge.

Tom