paper snowballs
I’ve nothing to rip out of the roller
no paper to scrunch into a ball
and toss across the room
it’s snowing outside and paper
angels hang out on treetops
watching boys and girls throwing
snowballs at any moving target
gas fireplace glows unnoticed
its blower distributing warmth
as far as it possibly can
touching blanket
a quiet breath
late evening long exhausted
meanwhile I sit in same place
far away from the light
banging upon keyboard
desperating attempting to transmit
wondrous words into
thunderous snow clouds
december two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
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