MayPoWriMo 1

Nothing new happened today
unless you count
the fragrance of the air

reminding child you of the day
you knew snow
would not return again soon

so you leave the windows open
even as the clouds
turn a dark brighter shade of gray

and set the tea upon the window sill
as you walk the neighborhood
smiling at every face you meet

even though distance is kept
like a promised thing
a rose with fragrance not quite

as sweet as when you return
to count the minutes
until a new thing begins

like dinner or the difference
between strangers
greeting each other on the street

and never looking back at each