*non dream* first snow

White and crisp. Gazing out my kitchen window, I get tingles down my spine. This picture makes me swoon. I step outside of myself and see me grin. I sway slightly as my solidity has evaporated; I am standing in joy. This miracle covers all dirt, all the grime of the city, all the garbage strewn about. The early light of day, that pink and periwinkle glow preceding the hustle, captures this image in my mind, before the cars plow through the innocence and turn over these white sheets. Ephemeral is this state. The bite of cold steals the joy of snow. The pressure of culture bars my pleasure in nature. But standing here in the light of this window, I am ahead of everybody else. Ceramic in my hands is heated with tar I am not ready sip. It's the warmth held close to my body and the aroma steaming through my nose that savor this moment. As I walk through my day, when I sit down to study, when I miss the bus this morning, I will close my eyes just once and recall that static feeling of not existing - just touching a distant feeling.