mid-December, Thursday morning

The yards across the street that encapsulate
the view from my four tall living room windows
are all slightly sloped towards the street that
separates their houses from mine and they
are all facing to the north and this late in the
season the snow from last week still coats their

yards in a blanket of white
while my yard, and those of my neighbors to
the east and west, are mostly exposed again
and the leaves which I neglected to rake before
the storm arrived are once again visible in the
late morning sun and my yard is now golden

orange, in direct contrast to the faded black asphalt
of the street that separates their houses from mine
and as that woman from two blocks over strolls by in
the late morning chill, pushing her stroller with two 
children and three dogs on leashes obediently keeping
pace, she waves and I wave back, her bundled up against

the cold and me in the relative warmth of my living room,
we are both startled by a loud crash as the sun melts
another patch of snow from my roof and it crashes
to the ground with a loud thud! and we both smile at
the temporary cacophony of nature asserting its will
before she trundles on, kids and dogs in tow, mostly likely

to get her steps in.