The Snow That Waited for Morning
A Note from The Winter Child Poet
Last night I saw a drift of snow standing very still, as if it were guarding the door instead of blocking it. It felt alive in a quiet way — like it was listening for something gentle. When I touched it with my mitten, it shivered, but not from cold. It was the kind of shiver you feel when someone finally notices you. The moon leaned low to watch, and the flakes held their places, each one waiting with a kind of soft determination. Then the snow whispered — not in words, but in a hush that brushed my ear: “Some nights we wait upon the ground to lift the small things into cheer.” In the morning, the drift was still there, but it felt different — warm in its own quiet way. A little hill of hope shaped by the night. I think some things wait for us even when we don’t notice. And when the morning comes, they’re still there — holding their gentle shape. Read the full poem and analysis tomorrow 14th: https://alkonda.com/2025/12/13/the-poem-of-the-day-63/© Al Konda · The Poetry Elite