Too much room,
not enough distance.
It snowed that New Year’s day.
Whispers, icy pinpricks,
a sweeping wind.
The snow, the laughter, never landing.
Not enough room,
too much distance.
Decades later, another new year,
another cold silent beginning.
Still, the snow moved sideways.
Already, bare Christmas trees lined the curbs.
The glint of tinsel,
one broken ornament in the street.
Not too distant.
A door opens and snow flies into the room.
The dog is in the yard, barking and barking.
A young girl runs outside,
the pom-pom of her new cap
a bright reminder of an old year.