A winter
without snow
to transform
brutal asphalt
into a wondrous cradle
where humanity
could dream pure thoughts—
in Brooklyn
at least—
unbearable
so when
the first
delicate
crystalline
snow
drifted from the heavens
my spirit soared
high
far
dwelling amid the countless
manifestations
and this night
the air fell
to ten degrees
so no thick heavy snowfall
instead what I called
a Twinkling—
iridescent flakes
given a brief
optic life
for humans
by the brilliance of
mercury vapor
street lights.
Charles Chaim Wax
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/obtaining-delight-this-night/
