Snow Pastel

Chunks of snow pelting from the top
But humbly wets the roads when touching the earth
Flurries hurrying like running out on schedule
Slippery sidewalks prepare for the slush.

Thirty minutes of pure ecstasy,
White pieces of joy pasted on us
High-rises look hazy through the rain
Horizon seems to a Grey hairline.

We could smell it, it marked us with chalks
Caught us off the guard after the eighteen degree mark
Parting kisses that the winter blew us
Only the romantic will know the reason why.

No sunshine today, no windchill to hide from.
No ear-cups are around so the wind touches the skull.
I've got warmth in my pocket from last night
Will walk through the ice and alabaster light.