© Dorothy Mahoney

december

in the morning the world is
suddenly white with snow that keeps
falling

the dog snuffles and snaps, sniffs
and runs a trail through the yard
happy

the wind ruffles his head and instantly
his nose goes up and he sits as if waiting
praise

snow clings in clumps on the fur of
his legs and he shakes himself once, twice
silently

dog of the first snow, curled content in
the white drifting, how easily you acquiesce to
winter