June in January
By John Herlihy

The snow fell heavily to the ground in droves,
In cozy households, meat stews simmered on stoves.
The magical flakes fringed everything in white lace;
Each individual pattern tailored with a particular face.
With such activity, one expected more than muffled sound;
Sleigh bells a-tinkling as horses’ hooves struck the ground.
Instead, silence prevailed as serenity everyone could share,
Interrupted only briefly by the heaving breath of the bear.

A long silence that was suggestive of a lasting peace,
To cover the world protectively under this pearly fleece.
This world of enchantment highlighted the awakening of day,
Winter’s very own blanket as if in service under nature’s pay.
The lattice of snow draped the world gently that morning;
The tree branches fluffed in beauty after violent storming,
Sparkling in the sunlight shining like silver needle pins,
Covering what moves across the land from ankles to shins.

How miraculous it all seems with its peace most assuring.
How transient it comes to mean with a smile most alluring.
The warmth of snow’s blanket has a history ages old;
The landscape built sturdy to gracefully accept the cold.
The air had a freshness from beyond the horizon of time,
Recalling the sweetness of lilacs and the essence of thyme.
The fragrance of June right there in the middle of January;
Summer’s fog still wandering as if lost in winter’s estuary.