Walking in the Snow with You
by Albert Fried-Cassorla
You invited me to walk in the midday white crunch
after it had snowed a bunch.
Fat flakes fell on our faces, and packed well under feet,
kinder than the earlier sleet.
Our pooch delighted in the scents
buried eight inches down...
icicles hanging from her whiskers like a clown.
You asked me to listen to the silence,
and I did...
Heard it, apart from a very distant car
and the happy yell of some sledding kid.
From the overcast sky came more snow, now sideways slanting
-- not stinging, and the both of us enchanting ,
as we held hands and moved along.
Your gift to me, I'd like to say, is that life did not even slightly
pass us by... on that road, that day.