The grey of cold teases
to explode into something worthwhile,
into a dream of cold,
a starlight shower you can taste,
a cold that does not chill.
I've lost my memory
of my first snow--
did I gasp at a field of white?
Or scream at the freeze
until my cheeks reddened?
The crunch underfoot is satisfying
and the thrill of virgin snow
near leaves.”
~Joseph Coelho